Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time
by Lesera128
Summary: From the non-existent journal of Dr. Temperance Brennan. Very AU. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands. Famous BB quotes, a disguise, drunken rants, & angry confessions tell the story. Complete.
1. Pro:Mysteries I Will Never Understand

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: T (for now)

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU one-shots that pose a glimpse at Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes.

A/N: Events up through season 5's finale "The Beginning in the End" can be considered canon. We will be veering off into jarringly different A/U terrain from the end of that episode forward. Just FYI. As ever, annoying flames will be fed to my pet dragon. A good piece of advice... if you don't like the story (be it premise, writing style, plot, characterization, or INSERT RANDOM GRIPE HERE), stop reading, and hit the back button. It's that simple. :)~

* * *

><p>Prologue – "Mysteries I Will Never Understand"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "Two plus two equals four; I put sugar in my coffee and it tastes sweet; the sun comes up because the world turns. These things are beautiful to me. There are mysteries I will never understand... But, everywhere I look, I see proof that for every effect, there is a corresponding cause, even if I can't see it. I find that reassuring."

* * *

><p>"I do not believe in prophetic dreams or visions."<p>

"So that rules out that you're sleeping or are in a trance," the lightly teasing reply came.

"I do not believe in spirits or the afterlife."

"You're your father's daughter in that one… if there's no evidence, if something isn't quantifiable, it's not real... or most probably doesn't exist. At least by the end, I had Max conceding to me that at the very least rational thought should acknowledge that his assumptions might be wrong… but, I know *you* didn't always believe that, Temperance. There is some of what *I* taught you running around in that beautiful mind of yours…."

"I do believe in hallucinations… brought on by a drug-induced state, lack of sleep, extreme emotional trauma, or physical malformation."

"So, by process of elimination that makes me… a hallucination?" the teasing came once more.

"Yes, by process of elimination, the empirical data suggests that for some unknown reason I am hallucinating the image of my dead mother in my bedroom at 3 o'clock in the morning," said Dr. Temperance Brennan, a hint of relief creeping into her voice as she completed her analysis of what many might consider a bewildering experience. However, looking up at the woman who stood at the edge of her bed, a frown of annoyance broke through her newly attained satisfied calm as she glanced at her clock. "Of course, despite what ever cause has resulted in this hallucination, I cannot help by find myself annoyed that it chose to occur three hours before I have to awaken to prepare for a twenty-two hour flight in the company of a very talkative and very exhausting person named Daisy Wick."

The visage of Christine Brennan frowned at those words before she nodded in her daughter's direction. "If you feel more comfortable calling me a hallucination, that's fine with me, Temperance. You know I never would have been able to marry a man like your father if I never learned to choose my battles. The important part that you will take away from this conversation is the content of what I have to tell you."

Brennan's lips pursed as she narrowed her stare and nodded. "And what would that be?"

"Purely for curiosity's sake?" her mother chuckled, somehow having recognized the look on Brennan's face.

For the first time, Brennan paled a bit as she recalled the phrase her mother had often used when indulging her daughter by answering a string of rapid-fire questions when she was a child. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes. Purely… for curiosity's sake."

"Okay," Christine said as she took a step towards Brennan and sat down on the bed. "Then, purely for curiosity's sake, I'm going to tell you some things that wonderfully rational mind of yours isn't going to like one little bit, Temperance, But… but, they're things you need to hear no matter how much you are going to dislike what they mean."

"And that would be?" Brennan prompted.

Nodding her head, Christine continued, "Purely for curiosity's sake… let's just say I could give you a few hints about what's going to happen in the next sixteen months of your life. Most of it's interesting, a fair amount is very painful, and more things than you would ever admit are going to come as a surprise. That's not to say good doesn't come with the bad… eventually… and that will be the choice you'll have to make. But, tomorrow morning, right before you get on that plane to Indonesia, you will set into motion a series of events that will…."

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	2. Ch1:Got the Signal

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: T (for now)

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU one-shots that pose a glimpse at Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes.

* * *

><p>Chapter 1 – "Got the Signal"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "I got the signal, Booth. I don't want to have any regrets."

* * *

><p><span>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<span>

The benefit of writing things down isn't because I want to make a record of what has happened to me in life. No, the real benefit comes in the process of actually writing my thoughts down. I find that if I write things down, as I put my thoughts into words, I can use the exercise to work through a problem that I am trying to analyze. That is one of the reasons I can say, technically, that I have never kept a journal. At the end of the exercise, once I am finished writing whatever it was that I was thinking about, I delete the file or burn the paper. There is no intrinsic value to maintaining an archive of my thoughts as the value is in the initial creative outburst. So, in this case.,. the 'delete' button is again my friend once I've finished the analytical exercise.

I started writing this document the evening I returned from the Maluku Islands… or approximately 12 hours after I left DC… or about 18 hours after I awoke to find a hallucination of my dead mother spouting prophetic mumblings of what was going to happen in my life if I showed up at the airport that morning. Whatever that thing was, as I firmly believe it wasn't my dead mother returned to life, it didn't convince me not to go to Maluku. After I finished listening to what the hallucination had to say, I calmly got up, got dressed, called a cab, took the cab to Washington National, said goodbye to Angela and… somewhat unexpectedly Booth, got on the plane, and left DC. Washington to Atlanta. Atlanta to San Francisco. San Francisco to Honolulu. Honolulu to Tokyo. Tokyo to Jakarta. My arrival in Jakarta would put me technically within the nation of Indonesia, and a series of boat and jeep rides from Jakarta would have brought me to our camp and dig site in the Maluku Islands approximately twenty-two hours after I left DC. However, none of that ever happened.

I only actually made it as far as the connection from Reagan to Hartsfield Airport. The flight from DC to Atlanta took a little less than ninety minutes…. We had to circle a bit due to inclement weather. If Booth were there, he would have taken that as a sign that I was acting in a manner that would adversely impact my life if I didn't make up my mind to end the 'insanity and 'go for a different outcome'. However, I took the delay to mean that I had extra time to contemplate all that had occurred to me since my hallucination had awakened me at 3 o'clock this morning, and to see if there were any decisions that I needed to consider altering...

She...? It….? *It*.

It *had* told me things that it correctly assessed as things I did not like to hear.

Seven months, it told me… 28 weeks was all the time I had to work with if I didn't want to end up with the series of outcomes the hallucination painstakingly and explicitly outlined for me. 28 weeks is not a lot of time. In fact… I had less than twenty weeks if I was going to do what I needed to do to be in a place to effect the most drastic change in the final eight weeks of that period.

When the hallucination had finished speaking, I allowed it the luxury of hugging me and saying goodbye... even though such indulgences were meaningless since I was hugging and saying goodbye to a hallucination. From a medical standpoint, I decided I would have to have a new MRI scheduled once I arrived in Indonesia. My last medical work up was completed by my doctor only twenty-two days ago, and the physical had come back telling my doctor that I was in perfect health, but still, something caused the hallucination, and at some point, I would need to find out what that something was… However, since this was the first and only time I can say I have ever hallucinated something, I feel less of a pressing need to seek medical information in light of the fact that I was supposed to leave for Maluku in only a few hours. If I had another hallucination, I would become more concerned, but, for now, the dig took priority.

I thought little of what the hallucination said as I got dressed and left for the airport. I didn't really ruminate on what is said as I gave hugs of goodbye to Angela. As Daisy pressed me to expedite our departure, for the first time, I felt a tiny knot appear in the pit of my stomach. I glanced across the airport, and there he was…. Just as she… just as *it* said he would be. Dressed in fatigues… looking that *look* that he has… that *look* that it said I should know by now was *mine* alone. There he was giving me that look, in the middle of the airport, and it drew me to him. We exchanged words of goodbye… but it was the continued lingering effect of that *look*… complicated by *that* touch… that one, last, final lingering touch which actually started to plant seeds of doubt in my mind. How could a hallucination know how Booth would look at me? How could it know how he would touch me? True, the touch was just a simple caress of hands… but how could it have known? How could it have known that no more accurate a description of it could have existed when my mother… *no*, my hallucination told me that was the last time he would look and touch me knowing that he was mine if I didn't do something? How could a hallucination know how I would *feel* when even I didn't possess that information at that particular point in time?

As I said, I was unsettled to say the least after I said my farewells to Booth. But, despite how I began to feel just a bit unsettled, still I said goodbye. Still I turned away from him. Still I walked to the terminal with Miss Wick. Still I got on that plane and left. What I didn't do was push that look, that feeling of his final touch out of my mind. What I did do was focus and begin to analyze the evidence of Booth's final look and last touch in juxtaposition with what the hallucination had said...

If I didn't stop things, if I allowed the current set of events to continue to play out uninterrupted, I would loose the very two things that I cherished and valued more than anything in the world… my work at the Jeffersonian and my partnership with Booth. True, the hallucination said eventually I would get them back… but they wouldn't necessarily be the same when I did… nor would any of the people involved. And how much pain would I have to experience in-between the loss and the reacquisition of the two things that meant more to me than anything else that I could possibly conceptualize?

Ultimately, it was Booth's final glance that was the reason that when I got off the plane in Atlanta, I didn't make the connecting flight with Miss Wick to San Francisco. Ultimately, it was Booth's final look that made me swear Daisy to secrecy about my change in plans so that everyone would continue to think I had departed for Maluku and would be spending the next year in Indonesia. Ultimately, it was my fear at losing the two most important things in my life that led me to book a first class seat back to DC on an evening flight that departed several hours later.

I spent the time in the first class lounge with my laptop and my brain as I pounded out the details of these events and considered the ramifications of my actions. No, hallucinations cannot foretell the future. I decided, as I completed writing in my word processing document, that I did not act in the way I did because I believed what the hallucination told me. I did, however, believe in Booth's final look. If there was even the slightest possibility that the significance of his look indicated that I could lose my place at the Jeffersonian… and that I could lose him, I owed it to myself to take all the proper steps I could to safeguard both of those treasured things. I would call no one, inform no one at this point of the change in my plans. Booth… Booth would be back on his base now, and shortly deployed to Afghanistan. I would only interrupt his work if and when it became clear to me that I had no other choice to do so. Until then, I would take the necessary precautions. I would fix things so that I would not lose the Jeffersonian or Booth. Not because a hallucination had told me I was working on a twenty-eight week deadline. No, I would do it because of his look, his touch, and the reason that it was the right thing to do. That much is clear, now, as I write these words. I have made the right choice, I will do the right thing because it is the right thing to do. I got the signal... and this time, this time I won't have any regrets.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	3. Ch2:Don't Know How

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: T (for now)

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 2 – "Don't Know How"<p>

* * *

><p>Quote: "I am not a gambler. I'm a scientist. I can't change. I don't know how... I don't know how."<p>

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

I needed an FBI agent. As my first choice (Booth) was not available, I went with my second option. Before, it might have been enough for me to know that in his absence, Booth had reluctantly placed his seal of approval on my second choice. If that choice were good enough for Booth, it should have been good enough for me. But, this situation was too important to just rely on Booth's gut instinct. I needed someone whom I could trust to safeguard what was important to me… maintain and, if possible, enhance the relationship shared by the Jeffersonian and the FBI. I needed that someone to be a good agent, tenacious in the pursuit of truth and justice, patience with the minds and mannerisms of squints, and understanding that I could spend no more than week 1 and week 2 of my schedule in establishing this relationship. The closest I could come to fulfilling those relationships came in the form of Special Agent Payton Perotta.

Two days after I arrived back in DC, I verified that Booth had left for Afghanistan, Sweets had requested a sabbatical to parts unknown, and Hodgins and Angela had left for Paris. What I needed to do couldn't be done if those particular cogs were still in place. Cam and the squinterns I could work with… would need to work with, to ensure that my first goal could be achieved – safeguarding my work at the Jeffersonian. But, right now, the others would hinder, not help, the achievement of that goal.

My meeting with Deputy Director Andrew Hacker had gone… unusually smooth. True, at the time, I am sure Cam could have seen my foray into administrative wranglings to be overstepping my authority, but I was doing what I needed to do. I would see her tomorrow, once I had settled things with the FBI. I can only hope she will be pleased with the outcome... even if she temporarily feels I circumvented her authority.

* * *

><p>"Dr. Brennan, this is somewhat of a surprise," Hacker had said when her name appeared on his list of early morning appointments. "When I received this morning's schedule, I must admit that I was somewhat surprised to see your name on it, Temperance."<p>

I smiled… Andrew and I had parted on comfortable terms several weeks before, but he still had a way of putting me at ease that most people didn't possess. "I assume I can trust you with what I am about to tell you, Andrew?"

Hacker nodded.

Brennan nodded in response and said, "I can't really explain the reasons, but suffice to say my plans to join the archaeological dig were altered. My contributions to the Maluku Project were outweighed but the importance of my work at the Jeffersonian. It is that work that I am here to see you about today."

His eyebrow arching slightly in curiosity, Hacker asked, "I was under the impression from the last time we spoke that your sabbatical had been granted and so your position at the Jeffersonian was secure?"

Brennan sighed. "It was… but, certain information has recently come to light about the way the Medico-Legal lab would have been run in my absence. For example, I am sure that you know since Booth's departure that the official paperwork remains unclear about the Jeffersonian's capability to subcontract for new cases?"

Hacker nodded. "I have to admit that little detail has been bothering me for a while. When I asked Booth about it, he said he'd take care of it before he left last week, but he somehow never got around to clarifying that point… and ever since then, we've just sort of been in limbo about your lab's availability. I had been meaning to contact Dr. Saroyan about it, but…."

Brennan shook her head. "There's no need. Consider my visit here this morning as an official one on behalf of the Jeffersonian."

"And so the lab's availability to subcontract would be?" Hacker asked.

Brennan smiled, "Ready and able to assist, provided the FBI liaison assigned is appropriate."

"Well, you know I would be the first one to volunteer for the task, but I'm assuming you're here to obtain some other squint-friendly agent?" Hacker inquired.

Nodding, Brennan said, "Yes… and that's why I asked Delores to put me on your schedule this morning."

"Well, you know I fully support the Bureau's relationship with the Jeffersonian. And, since I am assuming that you know that since Booth isn't an option, your second choice would be…?" Hacker asked.

"I believe that Payton Perotta is still assigned to the Major Crimes Division in DC is she not?" Brennan asked.

Hacker's response was somewhat humorous he said, "Perotta?"

Brennan nodded.

"She thinks you hate her," Hacker said, a touch of informality dropping into his voice. "She's fairly certain that after the last situation with the Gravedigger case that, given five minutes alone with her, you and your squints would do very bad things to her."

"I am sure that perception is over exaggerated on her part. Now that Booth is no longer here, and she can no longer interfere in our relationship, I find Agent Perotta to be an effective, patient, intelligent agent quite capable of demonstrating the level of tolerance necessary to work with us squints on a long term basis," Brennan said.

Hacker chuckled slightly at her words, catching Brennan's use of the word 'relationship' in regards to Booth as opposed to her normal label of 'partnership'. However, he let the Freudian slip drop, and instead nodded his head. "You want Perotta, consider it done… provided that you sign an affidavit indicating that you are, in reality, not planning to murder her and dispose of her body in some uber awesome squint plan."

"If such an affidavit is necessary, of course—" Brennan cut off as Hacker was biting his lip to keep from laughing. "That would be sarcasm."

"Yes," Hacker said, smiling.

Brennan nodded. This time Hacker smiled in earnest and said, "What else can I do to help?"

Letting out a breath of air, Brennan smiled and said, "There is one other thing."

"Name it."

Brennan nodded and said, "As we've discussed before, the relationship between the Jeffersonian and the Bureau needs to be safeguarded by any means necessary."

"Agreed."

"And while I believe the assignment of Agent Perotta as liaison is a step in the right direction, I am not certain it is the only thing we can do to ensure the viability of that continued working relationship if, for some reason, I were absent and could not intercede in situations where problematic issues arrived," Brennan said tentatively.

"What are you beating about the bush for, Temperance? Just to me what you want, and aside from getting Booth recalled from Afghanistan, I probably can make it happen," Hacker said.

Brennan nodded. "I think Perotta needs a partner assigned to her who is intimately familiar with the workings of the Jeffersonian and its personnel. Someone who can balance out her rational approach to dealing with squints at crime scenes, the lab, interrogations, and so on."

"And you have a suggestion, I am assuming?" Hacker asked.

Brennan, for the first time, frowned. "I do… but, it's going to involve a bit of paperwork."

"Well, lucky for you I am the Fairy Godfather of FBI Paperwork. So, tell me what agent do you want transferred from where since I am assuming that's what you mean about the paperwork?"

Brennan shook her head… "Transfer isn't exactly the right type of paperwork I was thinking about… more like, reactivation and recertification paperwork."

"Reactivation and recertification?" Hacker said. "Well, now I admit you've piqued my curiosity."

Nodding, Brennan said, "If I give you the details, I assume you can get the paperwork rolling while I go to retrieve said agent?"

"Of course… but, wait a minute… does this agent know you want me to reactivate and reassign him or her yet?" Hacker said.

Brennan smile. "Not yet, but I can guarantee you, that won't be a problem."

* * *

><p>The rest of the conversation with Hacker necessitated me going over the details of my plan. While I would be spending at least week one and week two of my twenty week deadline helping to establish and perpetuate my plan to safeguard my work at the Jeffersonian, I wouldn't be there the entire time. I needed to know that besides having a competent agent working as a liaison, that agent would be balanced out by someone who was a little more Booth-like in their approach to fieldwork. I hadn't lied when I told Andrew that I thought Perotta was a patient, thorough, intelligent, and capable agent. But, she's more like me in her thought processes… rational…deliberate, and less intuitive in how she works cases. She needed someone to balance that, and none of the squints could do that for her. The obvious answer was that she needed an FBI agent to do that for her, and there was only one other FBI agent that I could trust who had the skills, training and standing to do what I needed to have done.<p>

Finding him turned out to be the easy part. After all, working as a consultant to the Naval Academy in Annapolis didn't put him that far away from DC. However, later that afternoon, when I walked into his office, I am not sure if the bigger surprise was my appearance or what I had come to ask of former Special Agent Timothy Sullivan.

* * *

><p>"Tempe?"<p>

Tim Sullivan looked up from the file he was reading on his desk. His surprise quickly transitioned to pleasure as he stood and stared at his former lover for a moment.

"I had thought, for a while, that perhaps when you said you would be back to DC in a year that maybe you meant a Martian year because a Martian year is actually 1.88 years in Earth time," Brennan said with a small smile. "But then, a Martian year turned into two Martian years, and I figured that was another wrong assumption on my part... or that you were in fact on the Jupiterian calendar, in which case I would see you in about seven more Earth years since a year on Jupiter lasts approximately 11.86 Earth years."

Sully, still smiling, said, "Wow, you look great, Tempe..." He then stopped, and quirked an eyebrow in her direction, as he smiled and said, "Wait, did you just make a joke?"

Brennan grinned, "At the very least I am guilty of being a sarcastic smart ass."

Nodding, Sully gestured to a chair, and Brennan sat down. She then began to explain what she wanted. Sometime later, Sully was staring at Brennan over steepled fingers with a small frown on his face.

"You know," Sully said. "There are about a hundred reasons I could give right now as to why I should say 'thanks' but 'no thanks'."

"I know," Brennan said. "Everything from the fact that you make a higher salary here with less danger and better hours to the fact that you've 'been there, done that' at the Bureau."

Again, Sully quirked an eyebrow at Brennan's use of the vernacular, but didn't say anything for a moment. He then shrugged and nodded before he added, "Yes, all that and more. But, despite the fact that I find your offer fascinating, the simple problem is that when I came back to DC two and a half years ago, and applied for reinstatement, I was told budget cuts and my particular skill set could only get me a part-time teaching gig at Quantico or a job as a junior profiling analyst at either the Chicago or Las Vegas field offices… neither of which appealed to me."

"And what if I could say that the offer the FBI is willing to make for you is full reinstatement to the DC field office as a Special Agent?" Brennan asked.

Sully leveled his gaze, and said in a conspiratorial tone, "I would have to ask you who you're blackmailing, and if we can get a pay raise bumped in my salary while we're at it."

This time Brennan did laugh and knew that she was very close to getting the next part of her plan put into motion.

* * *

><p>Seeing Sully again made me a bit more nostalgic than I had anticipated. Not for us… or the relationship I once had with him. But, it made me realize that the woman he knew… the woman he said he fell in love with, well, that's not the same woman I am today. Somehow, through all the cases and meals at the diner and sessions spent bickering with Sweets… through all the visits with my father or shopping dates with Angela or arguments with Cam… through all the interns that have cycled through since Zach left… through all the late night take out paperwork sessions with Booth… somehow, at some point, I changed. I may not know how the whole process started, but I did it. And, maybe, not knowing how I did something isn't really the important part. The important part is recognizing that I *have* changed and adjust my analytical frame of reference accordingly.<p>

And, now, seeing Sully, I realized that perhaps the greatest sign of all that I had changed was not the jokes I was cracking or vernacular euphemisms I was tossing out in my normal speech patterns. No, the greatest sign was that I was taking setting in motion a series of events that would result in me taking the biggest gamble of my life. Everything I did between week 1 and week 20 would be in preparation for that gamble. I'm not sure when I became a gambler… but, I do know one thing. I am very good at everything I do. I see no reason why being a gambler should be any different.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	4. Ch3:Center Must Hold

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: T (for now)

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 3 – "Center Must Hold"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "And the center must hold."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

If I have to say that there was one thing that I didn't expect to happen as I instituted my great plan to save my work at the Jeffersonian, it was the call I got the morning after I had convinced Tim Sullivan to come back to DC and accept a job as Payton Perotta's partner. The call had come on my cell phone, and I picked it up and answered it out of habit. Most of the calls had stopped since everyone close to me thought I was digging for the missing link in the middle of the jungle in the Maluku Islands. I knew I could logically expect that I would not be receiving a call from Booth, Angela, Hodgins, my father, Russ, my publisher, Sweets, or any of my other friends. The people who did know that I was in town and capable of receiving calls on my cell phone consisted of Andrew, Payton Perotta, and Sully. I figured that such a call from anyone of them merited attention, and so I was surprised when I was contacted by Mrs. Anne Missouri, principal of Hardy Middle School in Georgetown. It took me a moment to process the information, and my first thought was why was a middle school principal calling me, when Mrs. Missouri's words hit me over the head like a proverbial ton of bricks.

* * *

><p>"Temperance Brennan," her response came through the phone, concise and professional.<p>

"Yes, Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institute?" came the response.

"Yes, this is she," Brennan responded.

"Dr. Brennan," the voice came over the telephone line. "My name is Anne Missouri. I am principal of Hardy Middle School."

Brennan frowned but asked, "How can I help you, Mrs. Missouri?"

"I am calling because of a situation we are having with one of our students, Parker Booth—" Missouri said.

Brennan immediately frowned.

"Parker?"

"Yes, ma'am. He was in an argument today with his science teacher, Mr. Davis. As the school year isn't that old, we felt it necessary to set up a meeting with Parker's guardians before he was sent home for his punishment, but we are having some trouble contacting the appropriate persons. Ms. Stinson, Parker's mother, isn't responding to either the home, work, or cell phone numbers we have on record. Parker informed us that his father is currently deployed in the Middle East, and his next of kin is listed as his uncle, Jared, but Mr. Booth is also not answering his phone. When I asked Parker if there was anyone else that could come and pick him up, he gave us your number. He said that you were his father's partner…." Mrs. Missouri trailed off.

Instantly, Brennan picked up on the way that Mrs. Missouri had verbalized the word *partner*. Deciding for once that if the school system wanted to think that she and Booth were in a domestic arrangement that was fine with her if she could get to Parker, Brennan nodded as she said, "Yes, Parker's father and I have been partners for six and a half years."

"Then, would you feel comfortable coming and speaking with us about Parker's situation?" Mrs. Missouri asked.

"Of course," Brennan said, glancing at her watch. "I can be there in forty-five minutes. Can you give me the address please?"

Approximately two hours later, Brennan stood in front of Hardy Middle School's administrative office's main exit. She held her phone to her ear as she said, "Yes, Rebecca, he's with me… no, no… he's fine. Yeah, my departure to Indonesia was delayed… no, no… it's fine. I know how trials can be… no, go take what's left of your lunch break and eat. I've finished my work for the day so I can keep him until you finish… why don't you just call me when you're done. I'm going to talk to him first, but we'll probably end up at the Jeffersonian if that's okay with you? Okay… yes, I'll tell him… all right. You're welcome. We'll see you later."

Parker stood with his shoulders slumped as he watched Brennan talk to his mother on her cell phone. Ending the call, Brennan placed the phone in her pocket and nodded at the car.

"You ready?"

Parker bit his lip as he said, "I didn't know who else to call."

Brennan shrugged. "You heard me talking to your mom, Parker. It's all right."

"She's really mad, isn't she?"

Brennan shrugged again. "I would say her tone indicated she is not very pleased with you right now."

"So… aren't you going to yell at me then?" Parker asked.

Brennan's eyebrows narrowed as she said, "Why would I yell at you?"

"Because…" Parker said tentatively… "that's what my mom and dad both do anytime they have to come here for a parent-teacher conference… especially if they have to leave work to do it."

"Well, your mom is working very hard on this trial, you know that," Brennan said.

"Yeah," Parker mumbled.

"And, as for Booth…" Brennan sighed as she struggled to find the right words to say. "Well, he's is a very passionate man, Parker. He wants you to be the best man you can be when you grow up, and so sometimes he says things he thinks are important and that you need to hear them immediately, so he says them as soon as he can, so *you* know they're important."

"If he uses my full name, then I know I'm really in trouble," Parker said softly.

Brennan nodded. "My mother did that too when I was growing up… although she actually did it more to my brother than me. I rarely broke the rules when I was growing up… and, well, if I did, I was usually smart enough not to get caught."

Parker, for the first time, got a glint of something in his eyes that wasn't embarrassment or apathetic. "Yeah?"

Brennan nodded. "I'll tell you about when I got into trouble if you tell me why you got into trouble?"

"Can we get something to eat while we're talking?" Parker asked. "I got into my argument with Mr. Davis right before lunch period, so I'm starving."

"Sure," Brennan said, gesturing towards the car. "Let's go to the mall. We can go to that hot dog stand that your dad likes."

Parker nodded, and the pair got into Brennan's car. They rode in silence. A short time later, Parker sat on a bench eating a hot dog while Brennan sipped from a cup of lemonade. As he was almost finished eating, he nodded at her and said, "Thanks for coming to get me, Bones. I… I know Dad told me that before he left you had gone on some big dig on the other side of the world, but I didn't know who else to call when Mom and Uncle Jared didn't answer their phones."

Brennan reached down and pushed an errant strand of hair out of Parker's eyes… his father's eyes. "Like I said, it's okay, Parker."

Parker was silent for a moment before he said quietly. "I started arguing with Mr. David because I wanted to get sent to the principal's office."

Brennan looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "Why?"

Parker bit his lip. "Because I'm mad... and I'm tired of every day being just like the last one."

"Dogs get mad, Parker... people get angry," Brennan corrected gently.

Looking up at her, Parker's eyes blazed as he amended, "Fine, then I'm angry. Very, very angry."

"You're not an angry person by nature, Parker," Brennan said.

"Yeah, well, things have really sucked since Dad told me he was leaving, Bones."

Brennan nodded but remained silent.

"I don't like it at all," Parker continued at last. "Dad... he just, everything's been different. He was always so sad whenever I saw him the last few months. We didn't go to your pool. He always had some really lame excuse… it was closed for cleaning and then the pump was broken or something else… and we never got to see you anymore. He stopped letting me take the after school classes at the Jeffersonian. And, then he left. And it just really, really sucks."

Brennan sighed. "I know, Parker. I know."

"You and Dad…." Parker began softly. "Did you guys fight?"

Brennan looked at Parker, and again, felt the need to choose her words very carefully. However, honesty was not something she could sugar coat with Parker. She had never felt she could…

"Yes, Parker, you could say that your father and I had a serious disagreement," Brennan said at last.

"Bones?" Parker asked in a smaller voice.

"Yes, Parker?" Brennan responded.

"Did you guys break up?" Parker asked.

Brennan sighed heavily. It was times like this that she really wished Booth were here. He would know what to say without doing more harm than good. Brennan, on the other hand, could only see a sad little boy in a lot of pain with one emotion very clear in his soft brown eyes… an emotion that she was intimately familiar with since it shone back at her in the mirror almost every day of her life – abandonment.

"We're still partners," Brennan said at last, hoping the ambiguous answer would give the boy – and perhaps herself – some small shred of hope.

"So you still love him?" Parker asked softly.

Parker didn't see the look of shock that shone on Brennan's face. However, he did notice her silence. Alarmed, Parker prompted again, "Bones, you still love him, right?"

Without realizing it, Brennan nodded slightly although words didn't come out.

Seemingly satisfied, Parker nodded to himself. "Good, then maybe you can help me figure out how to fix things until he gets back. I mean I talk to him every Friday morning before I leave for school unless he's on a mission… or, at least, that's what he told Mom before he left."

Suddenly, the turmoil of her earlier admission wafted through Brennan's conscious mind as she processed Parker's words. "Parker," Brennan began.

"Yeah?"

"When you talk to your dad…" Brennan began, unsure of how to say what she needed to say.

"Yeah?"

"Well, I need you to do me a favor…."

"Sure, Bones, anything for you," Parker said with a small smile.

Brennan nodded…"When you talk to your dad… I would never ask you to lie to him, but he can't know that I'm not at my dig."

"Why?" Parker questioned.

"Because," Brennan scrambled for a reason…"because if he knew I wasn't at my dig, he would worry, and you know he can't afford to be distracted while he's deployed, right?"

"Right," Parker said hesitantly.

"So," Brennan said, gaining confidence in her words. "so, we want to keep the fact that I'm still here in DC a surprise for your dad… so you just don't need to mention anything about this to him, okay?"

"Does that mean you're not going on your dig?" Parker asked, his eyebrows narrowing in a way that reminded Brennan eerily of Booth, particularly when Booth was closing in on a suspect's confession.

"No," Brennan said. "At least not for a few months."

"So…" Parker began. "Does that mean you'll still be working at the Jeffersonian?"

"Yes—" Brennan hesitantly.

"So that means that if you're going to be there, I could still come to the after school program and see you during the week like I used to, right?" Parker said.

"I don't know, Parker—" Brennan began. "Your mom…."

"Mom would say yes in a second as long as she didn't have to pick me up from school and take me to the Jeffersonian on my after school visit days," Parker said.

Brennan sighed, suddenly feeling like she was being blackmailed. She mentally confirmed that assessment when Parker flashed a very familiar toothy grin at her followed by the magic words of – "Pleeeeaaassse, Bones?"

And that was how Temperance Brennan, after a long talk with Rebecca Stinson, found herself picking up Parker Booth after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, dropping him off for the enrichment lessons, and then taking him home with her for swim time and dinner twice a week.

* * *

><p>I came to realize something in that second week with Parker… something I don't think either Booth or I realized when we were planning to leave for the Maluku Islands or Afghanistan… we have some many responsibilities here. It's not right of us to be selfish like we were… selfish in the fact that by running to southeast Asia and the Middle East we were running from something that needed to be dealt with… Booth once told me that he and I were the center of things… and that the center must hold or else everything would fall a part.<p>

Initially, I thought that what would fall a part would be my work at the Jeffersonian and my partnership with Booth. After that conversation, I now realized I had a third responsibility to take care of… our family. And Parker was a part of the family that was left here in DC… he couldn't run away to a honeymoon year in Paris or a music school sabbatical. Like Cam… and others, Parker couldn't run away. And, so, while Booth was gone, I realized that day that I was the one who would have to make certain the center would hold… at least until Booth returned, and we could bolster it together.

Unfortunately, it turned out the Parker wasn't the only Booth that had remained in DC and had to deal with the fall out of Booth and I running away from things. No, Jared Booth had also become a part of our family, and after everything he did for Booth during the Gravedigger situation, it turns out that I also owe him a debt that needed to be paid… holding the center aside. Little did I think that Jared would chose the one thing that would put me deeper into Booth's life than I already was... both figuratively and literally. But, then again, I probably should have expected as much because, after all, this is Jared we were talking about...

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	5. Ch4:Don't Doubt It

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: T (for now)

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 4 – "Don't Doubt It"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "I'm with Bones, Cam. All the way. Don't doubt it for a second."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

It was, ultimately, my renewed relationship with and pseudo-parental duties to Parker that resulted in Rebecca making the suggestion that I contact Jared. After the first week of the new schedule that resulted in Parker spending more time at the Jeffersonian and more time with me, Rebecca noticed things she had to share with me. Immediately, Parker seemed less moody to her… he seemed to be sleeping better… playing less of his video games on the X-box that Booth had bought him before he deployed… and studying more so that his weekly test grades improved in both his science and math classes. Her call to convey these things left me somewhat… unsettled.

* * *

><p>"Temperance Brennan," Brennan answered her phone.<p>

"Dr. Brennan, it's Rebecca Stinson," Rebecca said.

"Oh, Rebecca, hi," Brennan said, glancing at the clock. "Everything is still set for me picking up Parker, right?"

"Oh, definitely," Rebecca said. "I just wanted to let you know he really seems to be doing a lot better this week."

Brennan chuckled. "I think he just didn't like having his schedule adjusted so much, Rebecca. Reintroducing some of the constants like his after school enrichment programs probably just helped to reassure him."

"Maybe," Rebecca said. "But, I think it may be more than that. He misses Seeley, of course, but there's something else that I can't quite put my finger on…"

Brennan and Rebecca chatted a bit more about Parker's change in behavior. Rebecca then said, "You know, Dr. Brennan—"

"Rebecca, please," Brennan interrupted her. "I feel given our close ties to Parker that it would be more than appropriate, and my preference, that you call me by my first name."

"Temperance?" Rebecca said, somewhat uncertainly.

"Or Tempe, if you prefer. I don't really care either way," Brennan said.

"Okay," Rebecca said, "Tempe?"

"Good," Brennan said. "Now, you were saying?"

"I was just saying that Parker has been hinting that he misses his sleepovers at Seeley's," Rebecca began.

"Understandable," Brennan said. "Now that he has began to recover some of the lost aspects of his prior schedule, I could see where he would attempt to retrieve more."

"Yes, well, Seeley and I had talked about this before he deployed, and we thought it might be an option to have Jared take him for a weekend now and then, particularly since Jared is watching Seeley's place while Seeley's in Afghanistan," Rebecca said.

"I didn't know that he sub-letted the apartment to Jared," Brennan said.

"Oh, he didn't," Rebecca said. "Jared spends most of his time at Padme's since they are planning the wedding, but Jared liked the idea of having his own place to retreat to when the dress plans and decorating choices became too much. So every so often, Jared was going to take Parker."

"But, Jared being Jared hasn't called to firm up those plans yet, right?" Brennan said.

"Exactly… and I think Parker's getting impatient, because he stopped asking if he could spend the weekend with his Uncle Jared, and is instead starting to hint about seeing if he could spend the weekend with you," Rebecca said with a deep breath of relief, now that she had finally put the words out there.

Brennan bit her lip for a moment, somewhat at a loss as to why Parker would want to spend the weekend with her. However, she shrugged and said, "Of course, I'd love to have Parker if you need me to take him for a weekend, but I don't want to upset things with Jared… and I would need to figure out how to make my apartment suitable for a visit from Parker…."

The words trailed off, and the cogs in Brennan's mind continued to turn.

* * *

><p>Eventually, I decided that Parker staying at my apartment wasn't really feasible. It was a foreign space to him with none of his belongings, no TV, very little comfortable kid-friendly furniture, and, as Booth often said, it looked more like a museum than an actual home.<p>

And, so, a call to Jared brought another member of the Booth family into my circle of confidence about not really being in Maluku. Jared seemed happy for some reason that I had not left, even more pleased when I told him about how things were going with Parker. We had met at the diner for a cup of coffee, and he surprised me by immediately taking out his set of keys, reaching down and taking off a familiar looking key to me.

"Here," Jared had said to me. "Take it."

"That's Booth's key?" I said, recognizing the key, but somewhat unsure.

"Yup," Jared said.

"But I can't-" I began… _I can't go there and be there with Booth's son when Booth isn't there_, I thought.

"Come on, Tempe," Jared said. "It's not like I'm spending as much time as I though I would be there anyway. I'm honestly just going by once a week to check the locks and such. You'd be doing me a favor. Besides… it solves two problems at once. You'd have a safe place to take Parker on your weekends with him, and I wouldn't have to run around checking on a place that wasn't being used. Besides, I've talked with Parker... for some reason he thinks you're way more 'awesome' than I am anyway."

"But you made a promise to Booth that you'd help with Parker, Jared," I said. "I don't think I feel comfortable helping you to-"

"Shirk my duties?" Jared completed my sentence. I had been trying to think of a way to not put too delicate a point on the situation, but there it was. I was afraid by taking Parker, I might be enabling Jared just as Booth once had.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Jared shook his head, "Believe it or not, Tempe, this isn't about me trying to get a free pass about Parker and the promise I made to Seeley before I left. I'm just telling you what Rebecca's told me and what I've noticed with my own two eyes. You've been spending time with that kid for a week, and he's like a completely different little boy. I know seven days don't make that huge a difference in adult lives, but for a kid, seven days is a long time. If you want me to take him, I will, but I talked with Rebecca and we both think that if Parker wants to spend more time with you, it's not a bad thing."

I frowned. Before I realized it, the words were out of my mouth, "But why does Parker like spending time with me?

For a moment, the look Jared gave me was one that I recognized... the 'are you joking' look that I got on occasion from Booth. It took Jared just a few seconds to determine that, in fact, I was not joking. Chuckling a bit, Jared said, "Listen, Tempe, putting aside the fact that Parker is a very bright little boy who loves learning..."

"Booth is afraid he's turning into a mini-squint," I couldn't help but interject.

Jared shrugged. "Parker's always liked his academic classes better than his athletic pursuits. Just between you and I, that has always freaked my big brother out more than he would be willing to admit, because, for the life of him, Seeley can't figure out where such a predilection would come from..."

"His mother is a lawyer, and his father is one of the most senior field agents in the FBI... obviously Parker's genetics don't indicate that he is coming from DNA that lacks intelligence," I said.

"Yeah," Jared said, "Well, we both know that Seeley has always been real good at playing more dumb than he actually is..." Jared laughed again as he seemed to reflect on some memory. He then turned to me and said, "Of course, I think that started when we were teenagers, and my big brother thought being too smart was a detriment to locking down the girls he was interested in..."

"Booth played dumb to hook up with girls?" I asked, somewhat caught off guard by Jared's admission. My ability to glean nuggets of Booth's past was limited, and I was fascinated any time something I hadn't known about before came to the surface.

"Wait, did you just say what I think you said? Something non-literal?" Jared asked.

I shrugged. "Blame it on, Parker. Spending that much time with a pre-adolescent has necessitated me adjusting my vocabulary and sprinkling it with more common phrases and social metaphors."

"Ahh," Jared said, as he pointed at me. "There is the Tempe that we know and love... sounding like you just swallowed a dictionary."

I scowled at Jared, but said, "So, Booth... he downplayed his intelligence to aid in his ability to procure dates?"

At the rephrasing of the question, Jared eyed me for a moment, be he nodded slowly. "Yeah... and before you, I think it was fair to say that my brother never saw the benefit to accentuating how smart he can be... on occasion."

I sighed... "Even so, I still don't know why Parker wants to spend as much time with me as he seems to be doing lately."

Jared shrugged, "Maybe it's just as simple as the fact that he's a little boy missing his father, Tempe, and you're the closest thing he can get to having some exposure to his father's world in Seeley's absence."

Whatever answer I had expected Jared to give... that wasn't it. In the end, I had expected the worse of Jared... still... and I now was beginning to feel guilt because the current conversation seemed to indicate that the man who sat next to me was not the same man I had to guilt and threaten at the Founding Fathers to do right by his brother a year and a half ago. I would be lying if I said I hadn't expected the meeting to culminate with Jared calling in the marker for helping me with Booth... instead... I found myself frowning. This was not what I thought would be happening. In the course of safeguarding my work at the Jeffersonian and my partnership with Booth, how in the hell did I come, for all intents and purposes, to be Parker's stepmother... with practically Jared treating me like a sister-in-law... who was trying to get me to move into Booth's place… even if it was just for every other weekend?

"Don't worry… Padme and I will still come to see, Parker… but, you have to admit he would be more comfortable in his own room than in your apartment, Tempe…. Why don't we try it for a weekend and see how things go... and if you need to, you can give me the key back, and we'll work something else out?" Jared said. He then flashed that damn toothy grin Booth smile. Again, I knew I was done. Sighing, I reached out and took the key.

Now, if getting things as situated at the Jeffersonian could have been just as easily solved….

* * *

><p>Brennan had been unsure as to the best way to handle her transition back to working at the Jeffersonian. Eventually, she decided that, as ever, the direct approach was the best. Dressing as she would for any other day, and grabbing a scrap of paper from her home office marked 'GET OUT OF JAIL FREE', Brennan departed for the lab and put on her best confident poker face.<p>

As soon as Brennan had re-entered the lab, she could tell *something* was off. *Something* was different. *Something* just wasn't right. The lab usually hummed with this feeling… of something… an energy level? Yes, Hodgins, Angela, Booth, and Brennan had been gone from the lab for a couple of weeks, but still… it was the Medico-Legal Lab of the Jeffersonian Institute. It should feel so… well, Brennan wasn't sure how to describe how it felt to her, but the atmosphere wasn't right. When she entered the lab, she saw no movement on the platform. A few lab techs were working at the back tables, but all seemed eerily quiet. The lights in Angela's office were dim as were the lights in her own. However, the lights from Cam's office shone, and like a moth to a flame, Brennan was drawn to the autopsy room.

Somewhat surprisingly to her, Brennan saw no body on Cam's autopsy slab. Behind her desk, piled high with file folders and various stacks of papers sat a very harried looking Dr. Camille Saroyan. Biting back a measure of uncertainty, Brennan knocked on the door.

"What?" Cam said, not bothering to look up.

Taking a step into the office, Brennan said, "Hello, Dr. Saroyan."

Cam's mouth opened in a slight o-shape, as she slowly raised her head despite the fact that she had already recognized the source of the voice. "Dr. Brennan?" Cam finally managed at last.

Brennan nodded. "How are you?"

Cam's mouth opened once and then shut immediately. Somewhat deadpanned, she gestured at the stakes of papers and file folders and said, "Overworked, understaffed, and generally pissed off, if you want the truth."

"Well," Brennan said. "I believe you know that I always prefer the truth. It saves a lot of time in the long run…."

Cam nodded, and then adjusted her stance as she said, "Dr. Brennan, forgive my bluntness, but what in the hell are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in the middle of the jungle in Indonesia?"

Nodding, Brennan said, "That is what I keep being told." She then paused before, mind made up, she reached into her pocket and withdrew a slip of paper. Handing it to Cam, she said, "I was hoping I might be able to redeem this from you?"

Eyebrow raised, Cam said, "I don't think I understand."

Brennan smiled slightly. "Understandable. Perhaps I should start at the beginning before you decide if you'll let me use it."

Cam nodded again and gestured for Brennan to sit down in a chair opposite her desk. Ninety minutes later, having explained everything to Cam, Brennan finished her story. "And so as long as you see no problem with… not deliberately keeping from Hodgins, Angela, Sweets, and Booth that I didn't actually go to the Maluku Islands, I would like to resume my duties here at the lab."

"In what capacity?" Cam asked. "I mean, you'll be a tremendous help is securing the intern rotations. I am not going to lie and tell you that is where the short staffing issues have begun. With Daisy gone, we're down a total of three interns… Mr. Vasiri sent me a letter resigning his internship because he is switching the focus of his dissertation from forensic to cultural anthropology and Mr. Nigel-Murray requested a leave of absence for personal reasons not long after your last day in the lab. Mr. Edison, Mr. Bray, and Mr. Fischer are all available, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I don't know how long I could keep them on... without you here, and no requests coming from the Bureau for subcontracts on cases, I have been hearing some rumbling at the department meetings that they might disband the lab on site, reallocate our facilities to another department, and cut funding for the grad students. If you're back, I can guarantee none of that will happen... and maybe if it becomes known that you're back on site, we might be able to get the Anthropology Department at American to send a few more students your way."

"I believe I can help with that," Brennan said. "There are two or three incoming first-year students that have been trying to see if I would be willing to direct their dissertations. If I made it a requirement that they did fieldwork here at the Jeffersonian as a part of my agreement to serve as their dissertation adviser, I believe we could find suitable replacements."

Cam nodded. "All right… and so that just leaves me figuring out how pissed off I am at you for going over my head with Hacker at the FBI office regarding the subcontracting and assigning a new liaison."

"Yes," Brennan said, quietly. "Hence my desire to redeem my 'get out of jail free card.'"

Sighing, Cam nodded her head. She then glanced in the direction of the lab platform. "Everyone has only been gone less than a month, and already it feels like things were about to fall a part." She paused for a moment before she said, "I should be angry at you, Dr. Brennan, but all that matters now is that you did come back. You're here, and things won't fall a part because you didn't put your own desires ahead of everything else that makes the great things we do here so wonderful. So, yes… you can redeem your 'get out of jail free card'—"

Brennan let out a sigh she didn't know she was holding.

Cam pointed at her but them said, with her eyebrows narrowing ominously. "—But if you ever pull something like this again, you're going to be in more trouble than being simply grounded like Hodgins is when one of his experiments goes *kerplunk*."

Brennan nodded. "Duly noted."

"Okay, okay," Cam said with a smile. "Consider yourself reinstated, and as far as I know, you're still in Indonesia if anyone asks, provided I get to tell Angela it was all your doing when she finds out and wants to throttle someone in retaliation."

Brennan smiled. "Of course."

"Good, then go get us a case, Dr. Brennan," Cam said with a smile.

Brennan's own smile widened. "I'm due to meet with Agents Perotta and Sullivan in an hour or so. I don't know what they might have, but I figured we'd go from there as a starting point. I'll start working on the staffing issues with the interns after the meeting with Perotta and Sully."

"Well, we're all with you, Dr. Brennan. If there is one thing that your brief absence has shown is that anyone who doubts that is a fool."

"I'm not quite sure what that means," Brennan began, "But I assume it is a compliment of some kind."

Cam nodded. "Yes, very much so."

"Ahh," Brennan said. She was silent for a moment before she nodded and said, "Thanks, Cam."

Nodding her head, Cam said, "No, Dr. Brennan, thank you."

* * *

><p>If Booth had been then, that was the point where he would have laughed that silly chuckle of his, fist pumped his hands in the air, and said, 'Yeah, baby! We're back, Bones. We're back!'<p>

Unfortunately, *we* weren't back… because Booth wasn't there, it was just me. But, now, finally, I was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, when Booth came back there would be something for both of us to come back to….

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	6. Ch5:Something Great That Almost Happened

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: T (for now)

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 5 – "Something Great That Almost Happened"<p>

* * *

><p>Quote: "You ever feel like you saw something great that almost happened, but it didn't?"<p>

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

I never thought having a working relationship with someone other than Booth would be feasible for me. But, somehow, in creating the partnership for Sully and Perotta, done mainly as a way to safeguard my partnership with Booth, something very valuable,\ had been created. If Booth were here, he would say something magical had been created. Whatever it was, the three of us worked well together. Not quite as well as Booth and I, but in a pinch, it would do.

And, so, it was with only a little token resistance that after one particularly pain-in-the-ass case, I finally acquiesced to Payton's pleadings and joined her and Sully for a post-case celebratory drink at the Founding Fathers.

* * *

><p>Sitting at a table in the Founding Fathers… celebrating the close to another difficult case… well, it was different than when Brennan came here without Booth. Perotta and Sully were different. But, it still felt more right than a lot of things that Brennan had been doing before she decided to get off the connecting plane in Atlanta and return to DC. She sat, and although she wouldn't admit it to anyone, held a glass of scotch on the rocks in honor of Booth. Perotta had excused herself to go to the restroom, leaving Sully nursing his second beer.<p>

Brennan smiled at him, and finally asked the question she had been wanting to ask for some time.

"So Sully…." Brennan began with a chuckle.

Sully quirked an eye. "Yes, Tempe?"

"You'll have to forgive me because usually I'm on the other side of this conversation where you are right now, and I'm a little unfamiliar with being the one to ask this question," Brennan began.

"What question?" Sully prompted.

Brennan thought for a moment, trying to recall how many people over many years had most often phrased it to her and Booth. "So you and Payton… how's that going?"

Sully chuckled. "How's *what* going, Tempe?"

Biting her lip, Brennan couldn't help herself as she reverted to type and said, "How's your sexual relationship with Payton progressing?"

Sully laughed out loud at Brennan's words. "What makes you think there's anything personal going on between me and Payton?" Sully asked, neither confirming nor denying Brennan's words.

At this, it was Brennan's turn to laugh. She then pointed at herself and said, "Hey, remember who you're talking to, Sully. It's me… the Queen of Getting-Asked-About-The-Alleged-Sexual-Relationship-With-Your-Partner."

Sully nodded. "Touché." He then took a long drink of his beer before he said over the rim of the bottle with a large grin. "And it's going very well, thank you."

Brennan felt a warmth spread through her, hearing the mental voice of her inner Angela congratulating her for *finally* reading a situation correctly. However, that warmth quickly dissipated as Sully nodded at her and said, "And speaking of… have you heard from Booth lately?" Sully asked.

Brennan frowned, thinking about how much to reveal. Finally, she downed the remaining shot of Scotch in her glass, signaled the bartender to bring her another one, and nodded. "We haven't talked per se, but we have been exchanging emails."

"How is he?"

"To me… confusing," Brennan said honestly.

"He writes one thing and then another, and I don't know how to take it, Sully. It's just confusing the hell out of me," Brennan said matter-of-factly. She thought back on the last email that Booth had sent her and suddenly her light mood took a decidedly turn for the serious. Feeling a bit anxious, Brennan knew it was time to go home. Now that Sully had brought him up, she wouldn't be able to not focus on her latest issue with Booth... particularly after having spent the entire evening sipping one of his favorite beverages.

Shortly thereafter, Brennan finished her last drink, said her goodbyes to Sully and Payton, declined Payton's offer of a ride home, and hailed a cab. Instead of going to her apartment, though, on instinct, Brennan went to Booth's place. And, crawling into his bed, slightly buzzed, but not drunk, she pulled her laptop with her and began to reread the emails she had mentioned to Sully. She just couldn't help herself, really...

* * *

><p><em>Dear Bones:<em>

_I just wanted to drop you a note to say a quick hi… so hi. I've only been here a week… but already, it seems like it's been such a long time since I've been home. It's hard to explain, but now that I'm here… it's like my life in DC was such a long time ago… another world. Here in the sand and sun… the fatigues… and people calling me Sergeant Major Booth instead of Special Agent Booth… and my hair. I had to get my hair buzzed. I really hate that. I miss my hair… and my socks… and my belt buckle… and home. I miss home, Bones. What about you? How goes your hunt for the missing link over in the jungles of Mapupu?_

_Booth_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Booth:<em>

_Please consider this e-mail to be my response to your quick hi… hi in return. To answer your question, no I have not yet found the missing link. And, as I have constantly reminded you, it is not the Mapupu Islands, but the *Maluku* Islands. The first week has gone by, and I have found that it seems I have spent every single moment that I am awake in problem solving mode. So much was not right here, and I know I am the only one who could fix things. I am dealing with so many different people and having to do much more than I anticipated than when I first considered what my life would be like if I accepted the position as director of the project. I am sorry to hear that things have required such a period of adjustment for you. I am particularly disheartened to hear that you were required to receive a hair cut much shorter than your normal style. While a shorter haircut would indeed reveal more definite contours of your skull, I believe it would detract from the symmetry of your frontal bones and square jaw, and so, I must say that I much prefer your traditional haircut. Are you self-conscious now that your scar from the brain surgery is no longer hidden by your hair? If so, you shouldn't be embarrassed. Anthropologically-speaking, scars are a sign of bravery and experience in militaristic settings that should be an asset to you as you continue training men significantly younger than you. How is the weather?_

_T.B._

* * *

><p><em>Dear Bones:<em>

_I am glad to see that you are doing well playing in the dirt. However, your last email was filled with so many things, if I didn't know better, I would say you were getting better at making backhanded compliments and other smart ass sayings. First off, the trainees I am working with are not 'significantly younger' than me because I am not that old, thank you very much. I, Seeley J. Booth, am in the prime of my youth right now, so cut it out with the over-the-hill jokes. Second, the weather is hot. It's a desert, Bones, that's pretty much how they are… except at night. A really cold wind… one you would never expect, it can cut you like a knife if you aren't used to dealing with it. And, third, did you just tell me that you like how I cut my hair? I was able to Skype with Parker a few days ago. He seems to be a lot better than he was when I left… somehow more upbeat? Maybe that X-box I bought him before I left finally has helped ease some of the negative feelings he was dealing with? Stay safe._

_Booth_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Booth:<em>

_I hope that you are staying warm at night. I know that the army gives standard issue uniforms and other materials to its soldiers, but you need to take care of yourself. Especially your feet. It is a proven fact that soldiers who maintain the care and well being of their feet have a better chance of staying healthier while in war zones than those who don't. If your current socks are not up to the necessary standards, please let me know, and I will make certain that a supply of superior socks are sent to you. It is good news that Parker is doing well as I was unaware he was unhappy. I find I miss him and regret that I did not have a chance to see him in the weeks before we left DC. And to answer your questions, I will endeavor to 'cut it out' with the age jokes… at least until your next birthday. I know that turning forty is a mile stone in many cultures, including our own, and so I cannot promise I will resist any ageist jokes at that point in time. But, until then, I will do my best to 'cut it out'. And, yes, I do prefer your hair in its 'normal' style. Why is that surprising to you?_

_T.B._

* * *

><p><em>Dear Bones:<em>

_I haven't heard from you for a while… I suppose things must be getting busy in Makuku. Please just drop me a line when you can… I missed not hearing from you this week. I'm short on time, so I'll just wrap up by saying… thanks… and I'll let you know about the socks… I regret us not spending more time with Parker before I left too… and good to know about the haircut, and it was just surprising, because, well… it was._

_Booth_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Booth:<em>

_I am well. And, again, it's *Maluku* not Makuku… although now I am beginning to wonder if you are purposely misspelling the name to incite a reaction from me. I am sorry for not writing before now… time has seemed to melt away in this place. Days have gone before I realize how much time has passed. Are you still all right? You remember what I asked you to not do at the airport, remember? You aren't being you in Afghanistan, are you?_

_T.B._

* * *

><p><em>Dear Bones:<em>

_Thanks for writing… and I am okay. Yes, I remember what you asked of me before we left at the airport… and all I can say is that I am trying. Time is passing quickly here too. It's funny, but the passage of time is making me forget things I would have sworn I could never forget… how the lab smells when a new body arrives… that smell always grossed me out a bit, but I got used to it… and I never thought I would forget it. And, the Pad Bamee from that Thai take out place? The carton we always fight over? I can't remember that… and the thing that frustrates me more than anything is that I can't remember how your hair smells anymore._

_Booth_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Bones:<em>

_I'm sorry I wrote that last email. It was late, and we had just come back from maneuvers, and it had been a while since I slept. I'm guessing since I haven't heard from you in a while that I said something wrong. Please… don't… please… just please?_

_Booth_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Booth:<em>

_You didn't say anything wrong. I just don't know what to write._

_T.B._

* * *

><p><em>Dear Bones:<em>

_Tell me what what's wrong. Maybe I can help._

_Booth_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Booth:<em>

_I'm still scared._

_T.B._

* * *

><p><em>Dear Bones:<em>

_Well, that's certainly something I've heard before… it's what drove us six thousand miles a part._

_Booth_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Booth:<em>

_I know… and I want to fix it… but I still need some time._

_T.B._

* * *

><p><em>Dear Booth:<em>

_Why haven't you responded? Did I say something wrong this time?_

_T.B._

* * *

><p><em>Dear Bones:<em>

_No. You didn't say anything wrong. I just don't know what I can write that isn't the same thing I said before…._

_Booth_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Booth:<em>

_It's all right. Just, please… don't forget me… don't forget about me._

_T.B._

* * *

><p><em>Dear Bones:<em>

_I could never forget about you. Don't you know that by now? Six blocks or six thousands miles, and I never could. That seems to be a large part of the problem._

_Booth_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Booth:<em>

_Tell me how I can fix this._

_T.B._

* * *

><p><em>Dear Bones:<em>

_I would, but I did, and we both know how well that turned out, because you can't._

_Booth_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Booth:<em>

_I miss you._

_T.B._

* * *

><p><em>Dear Bones:<em>

_I was glad to hear from you. Are things still going well in Makuku? I am sorry I haven't had the chance to write in a couple weeks. I didn't have much free time aside from making my weekly Skype message session with Parker. It seems like he's grown so much in the months since I've been gone. But, he seems to be doing well, and since I know it's not for forever, I know I can do what I need to do to get where I need to go. Have you heard from Angela and Hodgins? There was this huge beetle that crawled into the barracks the other night. I immediately thought of the Bugman. Have you killed Daisy yet? I'm surprised you haven't mentioned her more by now. I thought her level of annoyance would be too much for even you to compartmentalize. Keep in touch._

_Booth_

* * *

><p>And that had been the most recent email that I had from him. I hadn't answered him yet. I was somewhat stunned by the fact that he seemed to completely ignore as heartfelt and emotional response as I seemed capable of giving him at the moment. I mean, come on, I did it. I admitted weakness to him... voluntarily... unsolicited. I told him I missed him. I didn't know what else I could give him right now... but I *could* give him that... and what response did I get? Ignorance of the entire gesture? *That* particular response was not something I had expected... and so, I waited as I tried to figure out how to respond. Maybe an email from Booth before his last one had bounced? Maybe... maybe he had a good reason for not even bringing up my admission? Granted it was a small one, but for me... well, it was a lot! Then, more time went by and I realized that, logically... rationally... Booth's failure to acknowledge my email could only mean one thing. There was a specific reason he was choosing to ignore my admission. He *couldn't* acknowledge it... because if he did, he... no, *we* would have to deal with what it means in all its many complicated forms... and, apparently, Booth wasn't willing andor able to do that. Did *he* miss me? Yes. Did he care about me? Sure. Did he want to know what was going on with me out of that concern? Casually, yes, of course. But... anything more than that? No, apparently not. I try to finally step over his damn line, and look at what happens... he erects a new one... bigger, more well defined, and more heavily guarded then ever before. It was happening... just as my mother... err, the hallucination had warned. He was moving on, I was losing him, and if I wasn't careful there wasn't anything I could do about it.

While I was working through all these thoughts... I had let one day turn into three... three days turn into a week... and one week turn into three. It was the longest that Booth and I had gone without any form of communication. Of course, I heard from Parker a recap of their weekly Skype sessions, so I knew he was okay... but, it was only as I started to count that I realized that in keeping track of my communications with Booth... I realized that four months had gone by… four months of time spent solving cases with Sully and Perotta… four months spending time with Parker… the first phase of my plan that was supposed to be completed in three weeks had, in fact, taken sixteen.

I was running out of time... four months gone... yes, perhaps this email blackout was just the thing that would spur me into putting the next part of the plan into motion. Because, well, quite frankly... that line... Booth doesn't get to draw it unilaterally anymore. I have to deal with it... so I get some input into when/if it gets crossed. And, even if I'm still struggling with the significances, let's be honest. I took a step over it when I didn't go to Maluku. I dragged the other foot across it when I started spending time with his son in his apartment... I may have jumped back over the line in apprehension once or twice since then... but that email was, in a way, me declaring the line to be null and void. I know what I want... and well, to be honest, Booth doesn't get a say in that anymore. We tried it his way in front of the Hoover, and look at how well that turned out. No, we're going to do it my way.

I've safeguarded my work at the Jeffersonian... our family is on even footing for now... Now, now it's time to safeguard my partnership with Booth… in all it's many forms.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	7. Ch6:The Burden

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M (bumped for language now, and probably other stuff later)

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 6 – "The Burden"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "Those are the risks. The thought of losing so much control over personal happiness is unbearable. That's the burden."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

I tried very desperately to avoid leaving things at Booth's place. When I knew I would be spending the weekend with Parker there, I would arrive before I picked him up, drop off a bag, and make certain everything was in readiness – stock up on the requisite groceries… make certain the mail had been collected and monthly bills paid (tasks that Jared had supposed to make certain was completed, but tasks I had gladly taken over when I took responsibility for Parker)… and make certain that I hadn't moved any of my items into Booth's place. It would have been just a bit too much to see my bottle of shampoo in his shower/tub or see my tooth brush in the same holder where his once stood – even if it was now empty. So, instead I lived out of an overnight bag. On the night I left the Founding Fathers, I didn't have my overnight bag. I did have my purse, my laptop bag from the office, and my key to Booth's place.

Going through the emails had made me start to feel sorry for myself. I can admit that now. Yes, I had made a decision... in reality, I had made the decision months ago. Like always, it's me coming to terms with the significance of the decision that's the problem as that's the actual part that I can't control. And, now that the decision was made, I was frustrated. I wasn't quite sure what was going to happen now, and that annoyed me. I would still get to where I needed to go, but I was frustrated and annoyed that Booth wasn't letting things progress as I had planned. And, while normally I could have dealt with this issue for the minor annoyance it was... well, I was hit with this particular issue at a time when I was tired, emotionally drained from the last case, and short on patience. I started to doubt myself and my decision... and that's when the anger and frustration morphed into fear. And, I don't do well with fear stemming from emotional turmoil. It's never been my thing... so, the last logical decision I made that night was this - if I was going to need to deal with an emotional insecurity, I thought I really needed to be in touch with my emotions to do that effectively. What better, and more expedient way to get in touch with my emotions than to continue working on the alcoholic haze I had begun to enjoy at the Founding Fathers? Yes, more alcohol was definitely called for... and for some reason... I decided that it was more appropriate... felt more instinctively safe, doing that in Booth's apartment than mine.

This was the first time I had gone there in the middle of the night, and the first time I had spent time there without Parker. Pity is a strong thing… especially when there is nothing to stop it. So, already slightly buzzed off of Booth's normal order of Scotch at the Founding Fathers… I did two things. I had taken the laptop to the bedroom, plugged it in, and sat on the bed while I read through the old emails. By the time I finished, I realized that I had not forgotten any of the details I recalled as I thought of them at the Founding Fathers when Sully had mentioned Booth. That led me to my second decision. Yes, I needed to do what I needed to do to safeguard my relationship with Booth... but that would have to wait until I stopped feeling scared for just a moment of self indulgence I had planned. That's where the pity came in... and I started feeling sorry for myself - pity combined with annoyance, frustration... and at the heart of all of the emotions... fear.

*Why* hadn't he answered the last email?

Walking to the kitchen, I went to the cupboard where I knew Booth kept the liquor. Opening it, I saw there wasn't a lot there… depleted, I imagined, when the thought he would be gone for a year. There were a couple of bottles of wine… not nearly strong enough for tonight… and then I saw it. Tucked into the back, there was the bottle of Scotch I had gotten Booth for his 39th birthday. The good stuff… I know, because I bought it for him. As Booth would say if he were here… if you're going to fuck yourself up, it's best to do it with the good stuff. Nodding to no one in particular, I grabbed for the Scotch bottle, deciding I would get another one later and replace it. Booth would never know about the substitution.

I went to another cupboard and dug through the stack of glasses. Shot glasses weren't exactly my preference tonight. Yes, I was going to kill the bottle… but I didn't normally like swigging from the bottle if I didn't have to… and I felt like indulging myself for a few hours, so shots were out. I didn't want to screw myself up too quickly. That would defeat the purpose, after all. Digging in for a cut crystal highball glass, I poured a healthy amount of the Scotch into the glass. I took a small sip, enjoying the burn of the liquid down my throat. Nodding again, I reached for the bottle and dragged both back with me to the bedroom.

Kicking off my heels, I walked back towards the bed. I placed the bottle down on the nightstand and then sat on the bed, grabbing for my laptop. Setting myself up, I adjusted a few pillows and shifted my back as I rested the glass of Scotch against my side. I then began to type. I opened up the 'compose new message' icon on my email program. I then dashed off two quick emails… one to Cam and one to Sully and Payton… indicating that I wouldn't be going into the lab tomorrow because I was feeling sick and didn't want to infect everyone. I would be available by phone and email if needed. Nothing like the peremptory decision to not bother going in to work tomorrow since I had decided that I was going to be too drunk tomorrow morning to do much anyway.

I was startled when the 'incoming mail' sound beeped, I clicked the program, thinking perhaps that Sully or Payton had responded from their phones... and suddenly saw a new message waiting for me marked SENDER – BoothSJ. To say *that* was the last thing I expected to see was something of an understatement.

Somewhat hesitantly, I clicked the icon.

_Dear Bones:_

_It's been three weeks since I've heard from you. That's the longest either one of us has let the news blackout go… and I'm concerned. In all honesty, I am of mixed emotions. The majority of my response is worry… I am afraid something has happened to you. However, there is a small part of me that is getting pissed off… Is the reason that you didn't respond to my last email because you really did kill Daisy and you're being held in some Indonesian prison without internet access? If so, you are excused and forgiven for making me worried/pissed off… If not, well… then what the hell is going on?_

_Booth_

Angry? *He's* angry at me. Perhaps it was the fact that it had been a long day, at the end of a long week, where I had already started drinking good alcohol on a relatively empty stomach. Reaching for the glass at my side, I downed another gulp of the amber liquid. Feeling liquid courage fire my veins, I decided that Booth had chosen the wrong day to send me even a pseudo indignant email. Clicking the 'respond' icon… I hastily typed…

_Booth… seriously, *you* are asking *me* what the hell is going on? WTF. T.B._

I then clicked send… and felt myself smile at it.

I loved that little acronym… WTF… 'what the fuck'… Sully had taught it to me… of course, I had heard it used before… I had even said the phrase before… but the acronym… it implied so much in such a cool way.

Satisfied, I finished what was left in my glass, reached for the bottle, and refilled.

A few seconds later, I was somewhat surprised as I heard the 'incoming mail' sound. Not surprised, I saw that, yup, the sender was Booth. Clicking the email, I saw his response.

_Dear Bones:_

_I'm not sure whether to be happy that, for the first time in four months, you and I actually seem to be online at the same time given the speed with which you responded to my last email. However, I am also somewhat annoyed by your response… do you even know what WTF means? If you did, I'm guessing you wouldn't have type it. So, I can only guess that WTF is another squint acronym that has some meaning that I'm not aware of…. And I repeat my earlier question… what the hell is going on with you? What's wrong?  
><em>

_Booth_

Now, I was angry. How in the hell can anyone… especially BOOTH, manage to condescend to a person like me in the space of about 100 words.

Again, I clicked respond and typed what I thought was a very clear message.

_Booth, yes, I know what WTF means. In this case, I am not using it as some arcane or obscure squint saying. It means, in the traditional sense - WHAT THE FUCK. As in, what the fuck is up with you asking what the hell is going on with me when you're the one that obviously has the issue? T.B._

Okay, I sent that before I reread it and saw that it was a bit more inflammatory than I had meant it to be. But, oh, well. I was getting pissed off. I told him I missed him, and he ignored it. Not even a goddamn acknowledgement of the vulnerability it took me to send that? WTF indeed.

A couple more moments passed before another incoming message beep signaled. I sipped my Scotch, starting to realize that I had the makings of a pretty good buzz going. I narrowed my eyes as I saw the simple reply….

_Are you somewhere that has the video chat uplink capability?_

I hit reply again, and almost typed 'yes'… before I thought better of it. There really wasn't anyway that I could hide the fact that it was night time and in Booth's apartment. He'd see in a second that I wasn't in some research hut in Indonesia. I hastily typed back.

_Booth:_

_NO._

_T.B._

I hit send. This time, the response came back almost instantaneously.

_You need to find a phone connection._

I almost contemplated telling him to just ring my cell, but then thought better of it. Somewhat annoyed at Booth's sudden level of tenacity, I typed a simple reply.

_Booth, internet is all I have access to right now. Phone lines aren't available. T.B._

I hit send and barely had enough time to take another drink of the Scotch before an incoming email responded.

_Bull shit. I know you better than that, Bones. Now find a goddamn telephone. Use the sat phone if you have to._

He knows me better than that? WTF? He doesn't know a damn thing about me.

I felt the anger rising in me again. WTF. WTF. What. The. Fuck.

Throwing my legs over the edge of the bed, I sat the laptop down as I suddenly realized that the glass was propped against my thigh. I knocked the glass as I shifted, and a slosh of Scotch splattered all over my dress. Fortunately, there wasn't a lot left in my glass, and it was also fortuitous that my clothing seemed to absorb the majority of the spill. I got up and saw nothing had spilled on the sheets or bed comforter. However, the unpleasant dampness of the Scotch necessitated me looking down and sighing heavily. I quickly pulled the knit dress over my head and exited the bedroom to toss it in the washer. Moving back to the bedroom, I looked in vain for Booth's robe, realizing that he must have taken it with him… as a matter a fact, a quick search of the bureau draws revealed one or two t-shirts that looked a bit too worn or frayed for me to want to put on… they looked just ratty. Sighing, I then turned to the closet, and was relieved to find most of Booth's clothing that resided on hangers was still neatly lined up and hanging, awaiting his return. Of course, it wasn't like he was going to need many of his suits, ties, or button down shirts in the desert. An image of Booth from many years ago, clad in a white button down when he had been dating Tessa flashed in my mind. I grimaced at the thought of the leggy blonde, and reached for a light blue shirt instead of one of the white ones. It was not a good image to put in my head at that particular moment. I grumbled as I unbuttoned the shirt and put it on. Pulling it over my head, I felt better now that I was clothed, but also annoyed because that smell… Booth's smell enveloped me. Damn.

It was at that point that the sound of my laptop got my attention. I heard two more incoming mail signals.

The first email was simple, and I have to admit, its flippant tone merely annoyed me even more... but, to be honest, anything from Booth at that time probably would have been enough to incite me. Because, now, I couldn't get that damn image of Tessa out of my head... Tessa... uggh... and then Rebecca... (and even though I liked her just fine when I was sober)... and Perotta, fucking Perotta with her goddamn chili... (wait, where in the hell did that come from? Payton is my friend... and she's with Sully now anyway)... and blondes. There were just too many goddamn leggy blondes. But, back to the email...

_I'm still waiting, Bones. Chop, chop. It's not like I've got all day._

Chop, chop? Oh, hell no, he did not just write that...

If the first email incited me... well, the second email was the one that pissed me off the most and sealed my decision. Fine, Booth wanted to talk to me, he would talk to me. The second email had said:

_Find the goddamn phone, NOW, Bones._

I was tempted to email him my normal cell phone number, but then thought better of it. I wasn't that far gone on the Scotch yet. Grabbing my cell phone, I booted up an app that Sully had been showing me with earlier… it was an experimental app that one of his friends in the lab at Quantico had told him about... it was a hacker app that some civilian had come up with to stalk ex-significant others apparently. But, it was great for law enforcement purposes as far as how to allowed us to trace cell phone call origination points when on a case in the field and needed a quick response. One of the extra benefits it also had was the ability to create a ghosting number that allowed you to receive incoming calls to a cell phone that wasn't the actual phone's number... call forwarding if you will... but perfectly customizable. A couple of clicks and I had rerouted a ghosted number from Sydney, Australia to my cell phone. It was the closest I could think of off the top of my head to where I was supposed to be in the Spice Islands.

Opening my email, I typed the ghosted number. I then added a post script – _Satisfied now?_

I don't know why I expected it to take a long time, but within perhaps two minutes, my cell phone was light up and ringing. I glanced at the caller ID… it was listed as an incoming restricted call. I knew who it was though.

Clicking the 'accept call' button, I brooked my confidence and answered, "Brennan."

There was a hiss of static on the other end of the line, and then a shuffling, and then I suddenly heard his voice as clear as if he were calling me from the Hoover Building instead of thousands of miles away.

"Bones."

His terse, clipped tone was my first tip off that something was off. I decided to see what it was before giving too much away about my own situation. However, just as I opened my mouth to speak, it was like something rerouted the speech patterns in my brain, and I altered my response. I was still pissed at Booth, I suddenly remembered. And I wanted to fight. Blondes... there had just been too many damn leggy blondes. That one thought continued to swim through the Scotch induced haze that had warmly declared itself my rational mind's nightly companion. I would have preferred to fight him in person, but inciting him over the phone would have to do. And, if there was one thing I knew that would set off Booth more quickly and more expertly than anything else, it was flippancy.

So, I put a smile on my face - more for my own benefit than him - and said in my most jovially flippant tone, "What's up, Booth?"

Booth was quiet for a mere beat, but I knew the response had not been what he was expecting. I *had* caught him off guard and decided to press the advantage.

I smirked as I heard him say, "This is the first time I've spoken to you in more than four months, and the only thing you have to say to me is 'what's up, Booth'?"

"Well," I began, "Seeing as how you reacted so well when I asked you WTF in my last email, I thought this would be an improvement."

Another beat, another unexpected response from Booth. I licked my lips in anticipation. Team Brennan – 2, Team Booth – 0.

"I just have one question I need to ask you, Bones… are you in anyway hurt, being held captive, drugged, or in any way compelled to not behavior like you normally do?" Booth asked.

Brennan chuckled, "If you're asking me if I am in any physical, mental, or actual danger, the answer would be 'no'."

"Okay," Booth said with a sigh. "That's good... a relief even." He paused, the tone slightly changing in his voice as he said, "Then, if you're not under the influence, could you please do me a favor and let me in on what the hell is up with you? Because... you… are… not making any sense right now. Why are you so angry?"

"I can't say that I'm not under the influence, though," I continued. "I wouldn't say I'm drunk, but I would assess that I've got a very good buzz going on right now."

"Uh huh…" Booth said. I could almost see him running a hand through his hair in exasperation. It was then, I also almost visualized a little light bulb going over Booth's head as he put two and two together and recalled my behavior when drunk tended to make me very truthful… not deceptive. "So, Bones… you're drunk?"

"Well on my way there, yes," I said.

"So that would mean that any responses you have are…."

"The result of my lowered inhibitions, yes…." I helped him out.

"And would it be fair to say that I am sensing just a little bit of hostility from you because I've done something that's made you upset with me?" Booth asked carefully.

"BINGO!" I yelled. "Give the man a beer… or a leggy blonde. Whichever you prefer, Booth. However, I'm willing to bet you'd choose the blonde."

There was silence for a moment. I wondered if I should add another point to Team Brennan's side when another voice in the far distance of my head said, _'Warning! Too far!'_

Booth said at last, "Bones, what's going on? Seriously? Why are you drunk... and pissed off... and making blonde jokes?"

I snarled, as I said, "All right, Booth, you want to know?"

"Yes," he responded. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know."

"Fine..." I said. I took a breath, and then verbalized a very muddled explanation that seemed perfectly understandable and rational to me at the time. I muttered, "If you want to know the reason I'm pissed off... well, it's because you're an idiot, but that can't be helped because I do have many IQ points that puts my intelligence far above yours... but even still... I am angry at you... with you... because of you... and I think it's safe to say that you can now consider us even for me stomping all over your heart in front of the Hoover six months ago. At least, *I* think we're even now. Tie score, Booth."

"What?" the confusion was evident in his voice. It bordered on bewildering... and it was so cute in a way that said... typical male. Suddenly, I pictured his smile and felt a longing stir in me. I still wanted him. I was angry at him, but I still wanted him... and so I smiled and decided to be generous.

"The email, Booth," I prompted, some of the anger disappearing from my voice.

"Email? What email, Bones?" I haven't heard from you in three weeks... that's why I sent the new email tonight," he said.

Suddenly, his density was no longer cute, and I was annoyed he didn't immediately understand the *important* email I was referencing. How dare he? Tapping my foot a bit, I said impatiently, "Come on, Booth… we all know you're smarter than the dumb knuckle dragging Neanderthal that you play when you're in DC… put two and two together… I didn't respond to your last email for three weeks because….?" I pressed.

"Because…." Booth's voice was quiet for a moment. And then I heard it... the proverbial '_Eureka_!' moment... when I could have sworn I heard Booth muttered under his breath... _'oh... fuck...'_ but then he said evenly, "Because I might have ignored something you wrote?"

"DOUBLE BINGO, baby!" I shouted. I then felt my pulse speed up as I said a new wave of indignation and anger swept over me. Here comes that spewing of honesty I'm known for when drunk... "Fuck, Booth… do you have any idea… ANY IDEA what it took for me to feel vulnerable enough to be able to write those three words? If anybody knows, it should be you, right?"

"Bones, I'm—"

"DON'T APOLOGIZE," I yelled. "Don't." I reached for the bottle of Scotch, took a deep drink from the bottle and then said, "I chose to ignore you, Booth, fine. You chose to ignore me. We're even. I rejected you, you rejected me. Fair's fair. Now, setting aside the fact that you have NO IDEA what I've gone through since you've been gone… since… since four months ago." I paused for a moment... there was no need to be stupid and tip him off that I wasn't in Maluku... and so, as I had been very careful to do in writing all my emails to him, I said vaguely, "Do you have any idea what I've had to do to do what needed to be done since that goddamn day at the airport? No, you don't and that's fine… but fair's fair, Booth. You wanted—"

"Bones," Booth said.

I ignored him and continued my rant. "—You wanted someone who could help you move on, right, Booth? You wanted someone to love you in thirty or forty or fifty goddamn years, right? Contestants on Jeopardy have more time to form an answer, the right answer, than you gave me that night, but fine. You took my answer and ran with it, so how is that search going, Booth?"

Booth tried again. "Bones, I—"

"I mean there have to be some stupid, blonde sluts with long legs that are willing to fuck you to help you forget, right? Aren't Commando Barbies standard issue to the Rangers on reenlistment?" I snarled. Something my mother… my hallucination… whatever the hell it was the night before I was supposed to leave for Maluku, had said, rang in my head. And there it was... the crux of the fear. Verbalized. To Booth. Because I'm an honest drunk. Fuck. Fuck. And double fuck.

I felt more than heard the deep intake of breath from Booth. I knew I had done it now… I knew I could add point 3 to Team Brennan. I didn't know where he was or what he was doing, but I knew he was just about as close to losing it as I had ever seen him.

"What the fuck, Bones?" Booth spat. "Who in the hell are you to say any of those goddamn things to me?"

I shrugged, despite the fact that I couldn't see him. In for the penny at that point, in for the pound, so the saying goes, right? If he had been there, physically, at that point I probably would have done something stupid like try to turn the aggression into a competition for sexual dominance by shoving my tongue down his throat... but, he wasn't, so I couldn't. Instead, I then laughed as I said, "You're right… I'm not blonde, I'm not an idiot, and my tits are better endowed than my legs or my ass. But, if there's one thing that you taught me, Booth, it's to call them like I see them."

"Call them like you see them?" Booth asked incredulously.

"Yeah," I spat back. Now, here's where I became just a bit vindictive. He had hurt me... so, I wanted to hurt him... and I knew exactly how to do it too. "And here's how I see things… aren't you far overdue to fuck a shallow blonde into another meaningless relationship with you? I mean, it *has* been a while, yeah? I don't think we can really count the marine biologist since she only lasted two dates and she looked more like me than your normal fall back standard. But I guess if you couldn't have me, even a pale imitation was better to fuck than nothing, right?"

Booth let out a long breath. He was silent for a moment. I could hear him gritting his teeth before he said softly… "This is so not how I envisioned this call going, Bones… but, fine, you want to play it like this, we'll do it your way. Apparently, my failure to acknowledge your email bothered you. Fine. Valid point. I apologize for that. But, instead of simply asking me about it, you had no fucking right to... where the fuck all of this hostility is coming from? You don't even... you don't get angry like this? Me, sure. You, never. I don't know what's happened to change you, Bones-"

_*You* happened_, I wanted to scream, but didn't. _*You* and that goddamn look in the airport_, I thought miserably.

"-but you're way out of line in so many ways I don't even know where to begin. When you calm down, screw your goddamn head on straight, then you can let me know that you're sane enough to talk, and we'll discuss some of the things… some of the things you've brought up. But, until then, my best advice to you would be to keep your mouth shut before you say any more things you'll regret when you're sober."

"Don't do me any fucking favors, Booth," I said testily.

"Like I said, you let me know when you're ready… and sober… and then we'll talk, Bones," Booth muttered.

"That'll happen when hell freezes over, Booth. When HELL. FREEZES. OVER.," I said.

"Goodbye, Bones," Booth said, and I could almost see the shake of his head before I heard the click and realized the line had gone dead.

Looking at the phone, I realized something was pricking at the edges of my eyes. Fuck, I am not going to… and then I sniffled and realized that my body had already started to cry while brain caught up to the bodily process. Pulling the bottle of Scotch to me, I finished what was left. I would later wonder how long the whole email session/phone call with Booth series of events had lasted. Apparently long enough for me to down most of the bottle.

Sometime later, all cried out and with an empty Scotch bottle clasped in my hands, I moved. I pushed the bottle away and pulled Booth's comforter around me... and, finally, I fell into a weary sleep.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	8. Ch7:Catch Up To Your Own Reality

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 7 – "Catch Up To Your Own Reality"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "Sweetie, this is not one of those things where you try to keep a secret, and I ferret out the truth. This is where I tell you something that's true so you can catch up to your own reality."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

"Oh, you're back," I said with a sigh. This time I was seated on my couch… *my* couch… where.. where was I? My office... at the Jeffersonian? How in the hell did I get here? More importantly, sitting next to me, was my mother. Now, how did *she* get here?

As I started to try to think of how in the hell I had gone from Booth's bedroom to my office at the Jeffersonian, something else occurred to me. I was dressed… in my own clothing… with a lab coat over everything… and my head wasn't pounding. Realization dawned.

"So," I said, as I looked at my mother. "You're not a hallucination this time, are you? I'm dreaming, right? Because if I am, that would be great, because it would mean I wouldn't have to expedite that MRI I was thinking about getting the first time I hallucinated you. So hallucination?"

My companion shook her head.

"Dream?"

"Yup," my mother nodded. "Which means when you wake up, your head is still going to hurt a lot."

"Ehh," I shrugged. "Last I recall, I downed a complete bottle of Scotch… I'm not sure over what length of time, but I am guessing many hours since I didn't wake up to vomit or die from alcohol poisoning. That would indicate to me that my extremely high tolerance has resulted in my liver trying to process the alcohol… and there's probably a good chance I'll still be drunk to some extent when I wake up."

"Even in your sleep, you're rational, Temperance. Doesn't that bother you?" my mother asked.

Shaking my head, I said, "No, I find the constant quite reassuring."

"So, you're still sure I'm not another hallucination this time?" my mother prompted after a few moments of silence.

I shrugged and said, "Nope. I think you're a part of my sub conscious which is trying to work through my current problem... and, as such, is not going to tell me anything new… I think this is just my brain's way of trying to get my conscious mind to recognize what the subconscious has been battling with for a long time."

"And that is, baby girl?" my mother asked.

I frowned. "Somehow I got my emotional spigot turned from 'off' to 'on'."

"So you knew this was coming?" my mother asked.

I sighed. "Yes… everyone always thinks that I don't know how to deal with emotions because I never experience them. That's not exactly true. I just prefer to compartmentalize them because I don't think I ever really learned how to deal with varying levels of emotional investment. It's kind of always been an all or nothing thing with me. And, since things usually get wrecked when the spigot is switched to 'on'… well, I spent a hell of a lot of time trying to make certain the switch stayed in the 'off' position."

"Until Booth came along and blew up the on/off switch," my mother questioned.

I sighed again. "Yeah." I paused for a moment. "I've been fighting against feeling emotions because of him for a long time. And I think I did a pretty good job until that look he gave me at the airport."

"Yes, resisting a kiss and declaration like the one he tossed you in front of the Hoover was no mean thing to overcome. I wonder if he would be surprised to know that, in the end, it was that one look and one caress at the airport that did you in?" my mother ruminated.

"I think Booth would be annoyed that the grand gesture wasn't what finally did me in… it was the smaller effort… probably completely unintentional on his part," I mused.

My mother smiled at this... "Of course, you changed things tonight with that little performance on the phone."

"What do you expect?" I huffed. "I was trying to meet him half way—"

"You only told him you missed him, baby girl," my mother chided me.

Frowning, I stopped and said, "How come you call me 'baby girl'... but you never call me Tempe? Dad and Russ always did, but for you, it was always Temperance."

My mother shrugged. "I see 'baby girl' as a term of endearment… just like when Booth calls you 'Bones'. I don't really see it as a nickname. Now, Tempe… that's a nickname… and I hate nicknames. Why do you think I originally chose a name for you that only had one syllable? There was no way you could make a nickname out of 'Joy'."

I sighed at this, but then looked back up at my mother. "You can't expect me to just have completely changed overnight… whether I was thrown off my normal learning curve or not with Booth. Me realizing that I love him is something I did a long time ago. Making peace with what that means… *that* is what is causing all this emotional turmoil."

"Which is why," my mother added, "You've gone from sad to angry to lonely to… well, baby girl, I don't even know what stage you're at..."

"Sexually frustrated?" I laughed.

Even though it was only a dream, my mother frowned. I shrugged. "Sorry." I paused for a moment before looking at her again and saying, "He's going to be really pissed at me, isn't he?"

"Well, from everything you've said, it seems like you are doing your best to make him doubt his decision to move on," my mother said.

"It was a stupid and illogical and crappy decision," I countered. "He loves me. I know that. A man like Booth can't go from loving a woman who is as difficult and as big a pain in the ass as I am for however many years he's loved me to moving on in a matter of months. He's stupid to think he could."

"But you told him no… so, logically, the next move for him is to at least try," my mother said gently.

I snorted… "Trying to move on by jumping into Baghdad Barbie's bed is not moving on…."

"So you do believe some of what I told you before," my mother said, an eyebrow raised.

"I find," I said tentatively, "if it is possible that another… blonde… woman is going to sidetrack Booth and I again… I would like to avoid it. That's the whole reason I've done everything I've done so far and the reason I'm going to do what I have to do."

"The easier way to do this," my mother said, "might just to be to tell him that you love him."

"Wouldn't work," I said immediately. "Booth wouldn't believe that I would believe that. He'd think I was so desperate to save our partnership that I would do what I had to do to get him to stay even if my feelings weren't genuine."

"You aren't giving *him* much credit for giving *you* much credit," my mother said.

I was quiet for a moment before I spoke. "Booth knows me better than any one else… any one else but me. And he's a man. If you asked him, I think he would tell you that I don't do well handling emotions because I haven't had a lot of practice being emotional. That's not 100% accurate. I've felt emotions before… but it's the dealing... and the meaning that stems from the dealing, that's the real problem. It's a minor distinction, subtle, but an important one."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes," I answered without reservation.

"Do you think he loves you?"

"Yes," I said, again with no hesitation.

"And what does that mean?"

"That means," I said tentatively… "I need to give Booth the opportunity to choose me… without risking him jumping in the bed of the Afghani Black Widow."

My mother laughed. "I have never heard you use some many nicknames and euphemisms to describe someone who may not even exist."

"Well," I began. "If she doesn't exist, I really don't like a figment of my hallucination's imagination."

"And if she does exist, you haven't even met her yet. That's not being very fair now, is it?" my mother asked.

"I'm only human, Mom," I said. "I can't help it if I feel jealous and possessive of Booth. And anyone who threatens that… well, I think it's a perfectly natural and understandable response to have if I feel that I hate her."

"You've never hated anyone in your life," my mother said.

"Not exactly true," I said thinking of the horrors I'd seen inflicted by evil people in the world over the years. "But you are correct in saying that I've never hated someone who hadn't committed a crime against human nature." I paused before adding… "Then again, there is a first time for everything… particularly when it gets personal."

My mother laughed and then nodded. "You probably get that from me. Lord knows how I felt about your father once upon a time."

"Hmmm," I said. "Maybe. Or, maybe, it's just an alpha-female thing."

"So this conversation with Booth," my mother asked. "Did it clarify that what you are doing is the right decision... despite the potential consequences?"

"More than anything," I said after a moment. "There's just a part of me that really wishes I didn't have to suffer through a hangover to gain this gem of self-introspection."

My mother smiled and laughed that light laugh of hers. It was then my office began to slowly dissolve away to be replaced by a piercing light and a thumping in my head. My mouth felt like it was shoved full of cotton… the same cotton wrapped around my head.

I cracked an eye open and saw my cell phone blinking. I think a grunt emerged from my mouth. My eyes darted to the clock on the table… I saw it was afternoon. Early afternoon. And I felt horrible. Best thing to do was close my eyes and go back to sleep. I'd deal with the hangover soon enough. For now, I just needed to sleep. And for once, this time, it was dreamless.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	9. Ch8:Felt So Real

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 8 – "Felt So Real"<p>

* * *

><p>Quote: "It felt so real."<p>

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

I decided, two days later as I sat in the waiting room of the Washington offices of the Associated Press, that I really was too old to get as drunk as I did the night I tried to pick a fight with Booth. It took me two days to recover, and I distinctly remember it never used to be this long a recovery time when I had gotten drunk before. True, it had been a while since I had drank *that* much liquor… especially alone… without Booth… I think his office and vodka were involved the last time this happened… but even still. I found my current deductions slightly ironic given the cracks I had made not that long ago about Booth getting older. It appeared we all weren't as young as we once were… as evidenced by the fact that I had spent the rest of the next day either still drunk or too hung over to do much but move from the bed to the bathroom to the kitchen and back to the bedroom to start the whole cycle over again.

Fortunately, since neither Booth nor Angela were in residence, I didn't have to worry about being coddled or babied by Cam, Sully, or Payton. Texts appeased them once they were reassured I was still alive. Somewhat ironically, Parker, Rebecca had called to let me know, seemed to be coming down with the sniffles – a somewhat inaccurate description of the rhinovirus, but I digress – and so was unable to spend his normal Thursday afternoon with me. I had last seen him on Tuesday night, after dinner but before the meeting to have drinks with Sully and Payton that had sent me on an unexpected bender occurred. I was not surprised as he was a bit subdued even then. That left me to my own devices on Thursday. And, now that I was relatively back to my old self, I decided to do what I needed to do so that in two and a half weeks, I would be where I needed to be when week 20 would lead my plan to shift in an entirely new direction.

The AP offices in Washington were not someplace I liked to visit often, particularly during regular business hours. But, it was late in the afternoon, and it was the only time I could get in to see the man who would play a crucial role of putting me in the position to be able to do what I needed to do in the coming weeks. And that man's name was John Jackson.

* * *

><p>Brennan finally entered the inner private office of the managing editor for the Associated Press. She smiled when she saw the older man, and reached to accept a hug when he proffered one to her.<p>

"Tempe," Jackson said with a smile. "It's been a long time."

"Yes, well you know I don't like to be seen here… just in case," Brennan said.

Jackson nodded. "Yes, I know you value your anonymity, so I must admit that I my curiosity was very piqued when you called. I figured you've either got a whopper for me or need to ask a really big favor."

Indicating a place on the couch that set slightly a part in a sitting area to the right of his desk, Brennan nodded. "It's the latter, John. I need a favor… and a really big one."

Jackson narrowed his eyebrows and said, "Tempe, you've been leaking us unofficial information for eight years, and you've never asked for one thing in return."

Brennan frowned slightly. "I know… and I wouldn't be asking you for a favor now, if I didn't have any other choice in the matter." She paused for a moment, but brightened and said… "But, if you say 'yes' and this does work out, I can guarantee you that you will be getting a set of pieces from Anderson… good pieces too. The series will please you, I can assure you."

With an arched eyebrow, Jackson said, "Hmmm… Andrea Anderson hasn't turned in a freelance piece to us in over two years. What makes you think she still has what it takes to write the type of pieces we need?"

Brennan looked at the editor for a moment, and then figured out that Jackson was giving her a hard time. She decided to play along. "How many award winning writers who have made the _New York Times_ Best Sellers List for more than 25 consecutive weeks on three separate occasions or better do you have offering to free lance for you, John?"

"Including you? At least three others…." Jackson said. "But none of them are as smart as you… or as precise in their grammar."

Brennan smiled. "So that means you'll help me?"

Jackson shrugged. "Maybe. Any time you decide to resurrect poor old Andi, if nothing else happens, its always interesting… and it pisses people off… two things an old reporter like me absolutely loves."

Brennan nodded. "So, you want to know what it is I want in detail before you agree?"

Frowning, Jackson said, "When have you ever known me to agree to something before I read the proverbial fine print?"

"Never," Brennan said. Taking a breath, she said, "I need your help gaining updated press credentials for Andi."

Jack shrugged. "Oh, Tempe… is that all? Come on… I thought you said this was interesting. If press credentials are all you need, consider it done."

"Ummmm," Brennan said. "Press credentials aren't all I need."

"What else?" Jackson said, suddenly becoming interesting again.

"How much pull do you still have with AP Middle Eastern Bureau?" Brennan asked.

"Hmmm, Frank Neilson? Some… he wants to come back from Cairo and knows I can make his life easier when he finally decides he wants to come back stateside… why?" Jackson said.

"Am I correct in assuming that to get access to certain… journalistic opportunities in the Middle East, Neilson could make that happen?" Brennan asked.

Jackson shrugged. "Sure… if I asked nicely. For a favor. Probably. Why?"

"How much does the Cairo office have with what is happening in Afghanistan and Iraq right now?" Brennan asked.

Frowning, Jackson said, "That's a little more tricky since there are active engagement zones in both places. Iraq is pretty hard to get into… Afghanistan, since that is a joint-NATO operation, is easier, both are probably doable if I had enough time…." He looked at Brennan and then grinned, "Why? Is there some archaeological site you want to get at that the State Department won't help you access?"

Brennan shook her head. "Not at all. If I wanted to get access to the site as Dr. Temperance Brennan, it would probably only take me a couple of phone calls. But, Dr. Temperance Brennan is currently directing a dig in Indonesia. She can't be in the Middle East. You understand what I mean?"

Jackson laughed. "So this means good ole Andi might see more action than just a reconnaissance dinner or two in New York at the UN?"

Brennan shrugged. "I have been told I have become very adept at undercover operations since I last was Andi, John."

"Mmmm… so which is it that you want into? Iraq or Afghanistan?"

"Afghanistan," Brennan said, a bit too fast, she realized. "Err, rather, Andrea Anderson wants to go to Afghanistan."

"And what do I get out of all of this?"

"Stories," Brennan said. "Get me embedded where I want for seven weeks, and I will get you at least two articles a week… more, if newsworthy events transpire while I'm there."

"Why do I get the feeling that you won't be happy playing reporter with just any unit that is currently deployed in Afghanistan?" Jackson said observantly.

"Well," Brennan said, "We've worked together for eight years, John. I would say aside from family, my editors know me better than everyone… so your guess is probably a good one."

"How much of a pain in the ass is it going to be for me to get Neilson to get Andi where she wants to be?" Jackson asked.

Brennan shrugged. "I honestly don't know. But, like I said, if we can make this happen… I'll make it up to you… and you know I always honor my word."

Jackson waved her off. "Yeah, yeah…."

He eyed her for a moment and then said, "How deep does your cover need to be?"

Brennan sighed. "It shouldn't be hard enough to make certain my previous articles are accessible in the AP archive right?"

"Naw," Jackson said. "That's been there since they posted."

"With the press credentials, I'll need the normal cover put into place… office address and voicemail… an AP email address… web access… come to think of it, one of your standard lap tops with the internal programs would really make my life a lot easier there when I need to uplink the stories," Brennan mused.

"Done, done, and done," Jackson said. "I assume you can take care of the other details? Or do you need my help with the rest too?"

"I think I have a friend at the State Department that will help with the passport and other paperwork," Brennan said, recalling the marker she was owed for the last operation in Cuba. If there was one thing that Dr. Temperance Brennan had, it was a lot of friends in very high places whom she held markers for… never having called any in before as the years progressed. She was counting on the backpile of credit to help her carry out her plans.

Nodding, Brennan said, "I'll send you an updated set of photos for my IDs and press badges by email," Brennan said. "How quickly can you get me set up?"

"As soon as you get me the photos, give me about 12 hours. The rest… office, voicemail, email… that can be set up immediately. I'll have the info sent to Andi's personal email address, unless it's changed?" Jackson asked.

Brennan shook her head. "Nope, it's hasn't changed."

"You going to tell me what this is about? Surely, it's not because of a sudden desire to see Afghanistan's natural wonders?" Jackson asked.

Brennan shook her head. "Nope, I've been there before."

"So you're not going to tell me?"

Brennan smiled. "Probably not, but thank you, John… thanks just the same. You have no idea how much this means to me."

* * *

><p>Stepping out of his office, the most radical part of my grand plan now suddenly materialized to me and felt real. I had spent the past months going over it in my head, and the idea seemed to be a good one, but to actually put it into motion – it felt both real and surreal at the same time.<p>

And just like that, Andrea "Andi" Anderson was reborn into the physical world. Beyond a manifestation of a penname I used occasionally when I needed to put information into the world that couldn't come from Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian.

Now, I had two and a half weeks to finish making preparations. I'd have to talk to Cam and Sully and Payton… and Parker would have to be handled carefully before I completed the transition. Timing would be crucial… because in two and a half weeks, Dr. Temperance Brennan would cease to exist for seven weeks… but Andi Anderson would be alive and well and allow me to do what I needed to do… finally.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	10. Ch9:To Make Life Changes

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

A/N: Some people aren't going to like this turn in the story. I am sure some will see it as out of character, unrealistic, and trite. Suffice to say… this story went off in AU a long time ago… and I don't think that as I've established Brennan's character, it's all that far fetched. Now, whether her actions constitute a smart idea or not can be debated at a later date. For now… readers can see where it goes or not… but, in the words of Shakespeare's MacBeth… "Lay onMacDuff, and damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!'"

* * *

><p>Chapter 9 – "To Make Life Changes"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "Listen, you're allowed to make life changes without picking a fight with your old life."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

The decision to reintroduce the person of Andrea 'Andi' Anderson into the world had not been a decision I made lightly. I initially had created Andi as an alternative persona eight years ago when I had returned from Ecuador. I was unable to give testimony or comment publicly on what I had seen at the hands of the death squads who still dominated that nation in so many ways. But, there was still so much there that the public needed to be told. I had first met John Jackson at the White House when I attended a dinner to honor the humanitarians and relief workers, other individuals like me, who had gone to Latin America to help bring peace to the families of the slain. We had hit it off right away… he knew who I was… the gallies for _Bred in Bone _had just been completed, and while the book had not yet been published, the industry expected great things from it. Even at that point in time, my agent had said, the industry had a buzz about the book. John wanted to know who I was, and so had made it a priority to get to know me. I think what he found surprised him.

We ended up talking about Rwanda… he had been in Kigali during one of the same spans I had worked for the UN peace keeping force identifying bodies, victims of the genocide there. My indignation over what I saw there, and in other places, led me to obliquely referencing my recent work in Ecuador. After the dinner ended, I accepted John's offer to accompany him to a late night reporter's hang out for coffee and more discussion. We ended up talking until 5 o'clock in the morning. At the end of the night, Andi Anderson had been born. Two weeks later, my first piece on what I had seen in Ecuador ran. And, after that, every time I would go abroad, I would usually meet with John upon my return... and Andi would have a new hard-hitting piece come out shortly thereafter.

John had been kind when he said it had been only two years since Andi had had a story published. In reality, I hadn't submitted to him any articles since my last trip to Guatemala after Booth's stint in the hospital with the tumor. What can I say? My focus, I have only come to realize recently, had been shifted and redirected elsewhere. After all, as my mother used to say, there is only so much time in any one given day... and solving murders for the FBI... particularly when Booth is involved... well, it takes time. After the tumor, I didn't go anywhere dig related for almost two years. Trips to the UK to lecture, yes. The trip to Beijing had almost ended my drought… before a murder ended up meaning I couldn't even get off the damn plane. I had been able to pass John a tidbit from "a high ranking source speaking on the condition of anonymity" when the Secret Service made that big deal about disinterring President Kennedy's remains. John had absolutely *loved* the story he had been able to run based on my tips. But, since then, not much.

No one knew about Andi… not even Angela. I guess I never really saw the need to enlighten anyone… and the less people that knew about her, the safer it was for her as a journalist and me as a government employee with a high security clearance. I relished the few times I could step into Andi's proverbial skin. I hadn't imagined, before now, what type of life Andi led… who she was or what she did aside from going after stories that the world *needed* to know about. I did relish being able to write as Andi. The creative writing of my novels has always been something I've struggled with… the anthropological style of the Jeffersonian actually has more in common with the journalistic style favored by the AP. Excepting technical terminology, keep your thoughts clear, concise, and to the point. Don't use words needlessly. Say what you are going to say and be done with it. That was another reason John loved editing my copy. It was very, very well done, from a grammatical point of view.

Now that I had set Andi's reemergence into motion, I now had two main things I need to do. The first was to prepare for Dr. Temperance Brennan's seven week absence with Cam, Sully, and Payton… and Parker. The second was to find out what I would need to do to physically become Andi Anderson. And, unfortunately, the only person that I knew who would definitely know who to send me to to help with that particular task on such short notice... well, it could really only have been someone with a criminal past himself.

* * *

><p>"Tempe!" Brennan's father said as he stood with a smile and outstretched arms.<p>

Brennan smiled, and moved to give her father a hug. "Hi, Dad."

Max Keenan gave his daughter an appreciative glance and said, "How are you, sweetie? You're back much earlier than you thought you would be. When did you get back?"

Brennan had expected these questions, and brushed them off quickly by saying, "A while, Dad."

"You didn't find what you were looking for in the jungles of southeast Asia?" Max pressed.

Truthfully, Brennan shook her head as she said, "No, I can honestly say that I did not."

The couple sat down at Brennan and Booth's normal table in the Royal Diner and proceeded to order. They made small talk though the rest of the meal before Brennan got to the point of why she had called her father and asked him to breakfast. "So, Dad."

"Yes, Tempe?"

"I need your help," Brennan began.

Immediately, Max frowned, and said, "What's wrong, Tempe? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

Quickly, Brennan waved her hands as she shook her head and said, "No, no. I'm fine. I just need… well, Dad, to be honest, I need to talk to the kind of person that you would be the type of person to know."

Max reached for his coffee cup as he said, "You don't mean, by chance, you need to talk to the type of person an old ex-con like me would know, do you?"

Brennan reluctantly nodded. "Yes."

Max shook his head. "Fair enough. What type of guy do you need to talk to?"

"You lived a completely new life as Arthur MacGregor for over fifteen years, Dad," Brennan began. "I need to talk to the guy who helped you pull that off."

"Off the record? This isn't for a case, is it?" Max asked. He then suddenly turned around and scanned his surroundings as he said, "Booth isn't around somewhere, is he, if I admit that I can help you? It has been a while since he's arrested me, and since I know that's his idea of a fun time—"

This time, Brennan couldn't help but laugh as she said, "No, Dad, Booth's not here. He's still on active duty with the Rangers in the Middle East."

"Oh," Max said. "Well, in that case, do you mean the guy who helped me pull off Art MacGregor's life on paper or Matthew Brennan's transformation into said new persona?"

Brennan's eyes narrowed. "The second, Dad. Definitely the second."

* * *

><p>And that was how I met Seth. Dad gave me a number to call. He warned me an appointment with Seth wouldn't come cheap… then again, my dad had never worked with anyone or anything that wasn't the best at what they did. Fortunately, for me, Seth made house calls. Ten thousand dollars and a first class ticket from New York to DC later, Seth stood in the middle of my apartment at 2 o'clock in the morning.<p>

"Dr. Brennan," he said. It was hard to describe the man. He wasn't really tall… or muscular… he had sandy brown hair, and dark eyes… he was really plain. The only thing that caught my attention was his diction. He didn't have an accent per se, but his word choice… diction and syntax… they indicated intelligence and education.

I nodded as I said, "Welcome to Washington, Mr…?" Dad hadn't told me his last name.

Waving a hand off, he said, "Just Seth will do, Dr. Brennan, just Seth."

I nodded.

Seth had brought only one suitcase with him… although I hesitate to describe his rolling train case as a suitcase. He pulled it towards the couch, gestured, and we sat.

He then began, "Now, Dr. Brennan, a mutual friend tells me you'd like my help. Seeing as how you know who I am and what I do, why don't you tell me who you want to be and what links you're willing to go to to help her be born."

I nodded, and decided the direct approach was the best. "Her name is Andrea Anderson. She is a free lance journalist with the Associated Press. She is going to be assigned shortly to be embedded in a military unit in Afghanistan."

Seth nodded. "Tell me about this Andrea."

I paused for a moment, and then reflected on what I had learned from Booth about undercover work. The best cover, he had always told me, was the one that was as close to the truth as possible. The one that has the least amount of lies is the one that is less difficult to trip up on if you forget the minor details.

"Andi is thirty-five. She was born in Chicago. She got a journalism degree from the University of Chicago. She did grad work at Northwestern, but never completed her Masters. She lives in DC. She's single, never married, no kids. She has a brother and a sister. She's the youngest child. She has a very good sense of humor, and has a nasty habit of using curse words when she shouldn't," Brennan said.

"And like you," Seth added. "She is very smart, very cunning, and very sexual."

Brennan raised her eyebrow at the last comment, but said nothing.

Seth nodded and said, "How long does Andi have to be born?"

"Two weeks," I said. "And plastic surgery isn't an option."

Seth harrumph at this. He then said, "The true secret to the art of deception, Dr. Brennan is knowing that the biggest advantage one has is letting people see what the expect to see. When someone looks at Andi, will they have any logical reason whatsoever to see Dr. Temperance Brennan in her place?"

"No," I said. "None whatsoever."

"Then you already have the greatest advantage possible. You just have to make certain that you let people see what, or in this case, whom they think they are seeing," Seth said.

"Even…" I paused for a moment. "Even if someone close to Dr. Temperance Brennan will be in close proximity to Andi Anderson?"

Seth shrugged. "That will pose a slightly more difficult challenge, but nothing someone with your level of acumen shouldn't be able to handle. Recognition is a funny thing. The brain tells us what it thinks we should be seeing. It is only then that secondary tells distract the brain from its original assumption… things like smell and other personal preferences that tip off others to the familiarity of identification."

I nodded.

Seth reached down and opened his case. He then took out a note pad and pen.

"Tell me what Andi Anderson looks like, Dr. Brennan," Seth said.

I paused, uncertain how to answer the question. All I really knew about Andi was that she couldn't look like me. After a moment, I shrugged and said, "I'm not certain."

At this, Seth smiled. "Ahh, then, at last, I can inject a bit of my creativity into this consultation."

He nodded and said, "Did you get the photographs of yourself that I asked for?"

Nodding, I handed my cell phone over to him where I had stored a number of recent photographs from the past two years. Seth began to flip through them with a critical eye. At last, he said, "If the only thing we have to keep in mind is that we need to make people believe that Temperance Brennan isn't Andi Anderson, that means making Andi as different from Temperance as possible while not going so far as to make you see odd, out of place, attention grabbing..."

He began to scribble something, continued flicking through the photos, and said, "What I am about to say is said as merely a critical assessment, of course."

I nodded. "And, as such, no offense will be taken."

"Temperance Brennan has a certain style. It is eclectic. But conservative. You dress to reinforce your individuality as a person first, your status as a female second. You favor accentuating your legs… it makes you seem taller than you actually are. Your clothing here does little to focus the eye on your bone structure or breasts… both well endowed points that Andi should emphasize to differentiate herself from Temperance. You tend to favor no consistent style with your hair… sometimes curly, sometimes wavy, rarely styled for style's sake. From this point on, Andi will be vain about her hair. Temperance's length is too practical. Andi's, given it is her primary vanity, will be impractical. I can see you have already let it grow out so that your hair is longer than in any of these photos, yes?"

I nodded again.

Seth nodded in return. "Good… a good start… but you will need extensions… and bangs I think. Bangs will draw attention to your cheek bones. We will use a straightener… Andi has woefully straight hair despite how much she hates it. And, obviously the color must be changed."

Looking up at me over his the tip of the phone, Seth assessed me with a curious eye. He said, "Sometimes in these photos I see a light brown hair like your father, and sometimes I see an auburn tint. Do you color your hair now?"

I shook my head. "No, the color changes depending on how much time I am in the sun."

"Then you will not be a brunette or a redhead," Seth said. "The right shade of blonde hair, however, might be an interesting choice."

"No!" I said, in a loud voice. Seth was momentarily taken aback by my outburst. I smiled, and said in a quieter voice. "I am not dying my hair blonde."

Seth frowned. He then shrugged, and said, "Then it will have to be black… brown hair so dark, it is almost black, like your mother's."

It was at this point that I suddenly had a realization. Seth hadn't just helped Matthew Brennan become Art MacGregor. He had helped Christine Brennan become another woman too. At this, I felt a lump form in my throat, but I swallowed it and focused on the matter at hand. I nodded. "That's fine."

Seth nodded at my agreement, and then continued murmuring as he scribbled. "Colored contacts, of course… brown, I think, will help off reinforce the shift in your coloring. Now, there is dye we can use to alter your skin tone… much like a spray on tan… as long as you reapply when you get where you are going, until the sun naturally darkens you, it should change your pale skin tone to a gradient at least two shades darker. A healthy tan, no?

Seth continued to scribble. He then stopped, set the pen down, and said, "Of course, there are other details. You will have to chose all new cosmetics…deodorants, soaps, perfumes, laundry detergents. Scent is very important. I will select your new clothing for you, and have it sent here. Of course, that will need to be covered as a part of my expense account. I will need your sizes. The clothing Andi wears will be her own style. She is practical, like you, but more flashy in some ways… less conservative. We will downplay your height… accentuate your curves."

Seth wrote down something once more. He then put the pen and the pad back in his bag and took out a business card. He handed it to me, and said, "You leave when?"

"Two weeks from tomorrow," I said.

Seth nodded. "Then I will see you in twelve days. Andi's wardrobe will be here by then. My last meeting with you will be for the fitting. At that point we will go over makeup and hair styles and posture. How you carry yourself is almost as important as how you dress. Ideally, I would have liked more time for you to be able to get used to being Andi, but we've only got to work with what we've got to work with…. In the meantime, you must decide on voice and diction. I suggest no accents too different from your own. Making something too elaborate is often the greatest blunder people make in trying to master the art of disguise. Once Andi is Andi, just let her be Andi. Then, the rest will fall into place."

I had my doubts… but I had to try. As soon as I got off the plane, would Booth know me? Would he truly see me? Or someone else?

In either case, my plan would ensure one thing. Andi Anderson would be getting off the same plane and beginning her tour with Booth's regiment at the same time I had confirmed, in reality, that another reporter from CNN news, the television department, was slated to begin her own tour… and that woman's name was Hannah Burley.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	11. Ch10:Can Come Back

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

A/N: In case some are wondering about the chronology of the story, the teams left for Maluku at the beginning of September. Seven months later would put at the end of March/beginning of April for a return date for the Logan Bartlett case. Just FYI.

* * *

><p>Chapter 10 – "Can Come Back"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "We can come back, pick up where we left off. Nothing really has to change."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

After my visit with Seth, I realized something. Mentally, I had been thinking about my decision to become Andi Anderson as merely another undercover operation. Granted, I wouldn't be undercover with Booth… I would actually be in cover in front of Booth… something I wasn't sure I could pull off, but I did have to try. It was after Seth's visit, I realized, if I was truly going to stand a chance of pulling this thing off, I needed to stop thinking of my trip as a time when I would be Temperance Brennan pretending to be Andi Anderson. I had to do what Seth had said… I had to *stop* being Temperance Brennan and *start* being Andi Anderson. It wasn't a question of how good an actress I was, after all… it was how strong my mind was… could I actually compartmentalize Temperance Brennan and let Andi be who she needed to be to do what I needed to do? I wasn't sure, but I did know I would have to try.

As I finished making the arrangements for Andi's 'birth'… I went about setting up the explanations for Dr. Temperance Brennan's absence.

The visit with Cam had gone usually smooth. She was plain spoken, as was I.

"Cam, do you remember when I told you when I came back from Indonesia a few months ago that I had made arrangements to have a replacement take my place as director of the dig?" That part wasn't a lie.

Cam nodded.

"Well," I began. "That favor was done for me on the condition that I head up the final few weeks on my replacement's previously scheduled dig. I am going to need to leave for a few weeks to fulfill that obligation."

Cam eyed me suspiciously. "Just a few weeks?"

I nodded. "The dig is a Persian site that was called the Alexandria on the Caucasus. They're identifying Macedonia nobility…."

Cam extended a hand and said, "If this is just for a few weeks, like your normal field trips to Guatemala and whatnot… go. I'm sure that Clark and Wendell can hold down the fort while you're gone."

Brennan smiled. "I can't guarantee how reliable my internet access will be for video conferencing or phone calls, but I will check and respond to my email as much as possible."

Cam sighed as she waved. "Go, have fun identifying Alexander the Great's aunts and uncles."

I frowned, about to correct Cam's misassessment by pointing out that Alexander the Great's aunts and uncles had been buried in Macedonia, not Alexandria on the Caucasus. I have to smile at that small point. Cam probably would never bother to check, but this was another touch that was as close to the truth as possible without having to be a lie. Alexandria on the Caucasus was the ancient name for the modern region in Afghanistan near Bagram Airbase. I wasn't exactly sure where Booth's unit was stationed, or where I would be going… John hadn't been able to tell me those details specifically. I did know that when I left DC, I would be flying to London, from London to Munich, and from Munich to Kabul. As long as I was on the same plane into Kabul as Hannah Burley, and we both would be getting off a plane assigned to Booth's unit, I didn't care. Nevertheless, I bit my tongue and didn't correct Cam. Instead, I smiled and said, "I leave on February 5th. 1 will return on March 24th.

Cam nodded. "Just fill out the paperwork like usual—"

I handed Cam a folder. She looked up at me with a smile. "Like I said, have fun."

The talk with Sully and Perotta was much the same. I think they had reached that point in their relationship that they were still very besotted with each other. Sully and Payton said they wanted to take me out for drinks before I left, and we would have dinner when I got back. I smiled. In many ways, I had desperately missed my life with Angela, Hodgins, and Booth. At first, I feared my friendships with Sully and Payton… and even Rebecca would replace those. Instead, my life had just become enriched as I realized that people could and did like me for the person I was…. It was a novel thing.

My thoughts of Angela made me realize I would be seeing her, finally, in less than two months. So much had already changed… with more likely to change again. My relationship with Angela had been somewhat easier to maintain… phone calls occasionally… and emails mostly… and lots of photos sent to me of the Parisian skyline. I was sad I couldn't talk to her before I left, but there really was too much else work to be done. Of course, a small part of me was also glad. I couldn't help, as the closer and closer I got to my departure date that my mother's words rang in my head with a decidedly Angela like voice repeating them... _'Bren, are you sure this is such a good idea? Maybe it would be easier if you just told him.' _But, no, I had made my decision. I wasn't going to back down. It was logical... made sense... and it was too late to back out now. So, yeah, I guess... I was sad I didn't have a chance to talk to Angela, but maybe it was for the best after all.

Namely, telling Parker I was leaving, and trying to figure out a way to make it up to him that was more clever and more reassuring than Booth's X-box had been.

* * *

><p>Brennan's final weekend with Parker, five days before she was set to leave for Afghanistan as Andi Anderson, was very important to her. She had picked Parker up at school, and instead of choosing a fast food restaurant to grab a snack at, she took him to the grocery store.<p>

"Awww, Bones, why can't we just order in pizza like we do when Dad's here?" Parker complained.

Brennan smiled, as she said, "Because, Parker, you may not know this, but one of the most important things you can do to make yourself attractive to other girls you want to get to know when you're older is to learn how to cook. If a man can cook, besides demonstrating the anthropological skill set that he is able to provide for his family, it sets him a part from other males who might want to be friends with the same girls you like."

Parker stopped and considered Brennan's words as she moved their cart into the produce department of the grocery store. Parker nodded to himself and moved to help her select fresh tomatoes that would serve as the basis for the pizza's sauce. A couple of months before, Parker had celebrated his twelfth birthday. Rebecca, Padme, Jared, and Brennan had taken him to the Jeffersonian's natural history rooms. Brennan had helped secure the area for a huge birthday surprise party. Cam and some of the squints helped in planning the dinosaur theme festivities. Parker had had a truly wonderful time despite the fact that Booth missed his planned birthday Skype session with Parker by almost eight hours. It was the middle of the night by the time he finally got a stable hook up, Brennan later learned from Rebecca. Parker was annoyed about being awakened after an exhausting day, but happy to hear his birthday wishes from Booth. His gift… a Philadelphia Fliers jersey with Parker's name and lucky number was warmly received, although Parker had conspiratorially told Brennan he actually liked the Washington Capitols more than the Fliers. Brennan had laughed, and it had been a great day all in all. Without consciously realizing, Brennan wondered when Parker had grown up from a child into a young adult. She shook her head as she considered all Booth had missed so far… so much happens so quickly when a person is so young. She was terrified about what she would miss herself over the next few weeks.

Nodding, the pair finished shopping and returned to Booth's apartment. Brennan then taught Parker had to start the marinara sauce, make the dough, and grate the cheese. They had compromised at toppings, Brennan being somewhat surprised when Parker had agreed to no meat in honor of Brennan's tastes as long as he had sliced *red* peppers on his half… the emphasis being on both *sliced* and *red* peppers. Apparently, Parker hated green or chopped peppers for some reason that Brennan couldn't quite figure out.

Once the pizza was cooking, Brennan called Parker over to the couch. She was somewhat surprised when Parker spoke first.

"I'm not gonna like this, am I?" Parker said, in a turn of phrase that made Brennan's heart skip a beat for a moment. _How could he sound so much like Booth_? Brennan wondered.

Brennan frowned as she shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"You're leaving me?" Parker said, looking down at his hands.

Brennan immediately said, "No! Of course, not, I'd never leave you, Parker… but I do have to go somewhere for a little bit."

Parker quirked an eyebrow at her and said, "Where?'

Brennan thought for a moment, and then said, "You remember when I came back, I told you I wasn't going to Indonesia."

"Yeah."

"Well, I know you also know that I told you I wouldn't have to go anywhere… at least not for a few months? Do you remember that?" Brennan asked.

Slowly, Parker nodded. "Yeah, I remember when you said that too."

"Well," Brennan said. "It's a few months later, Parker."

Parker sighed, but said nothing.

Brennan reached out for a hand, and Parker looked up at it when she held it. "There is both good news and bad news, Parker. The bad news is that I do have to go do some work for a while."

"How long?" Parker asked.

Brennan said, "Seven weeks."

"That's a long time, Bones!"

"It's not so long," Brennan said gently. "I leave next week… on the 5th and then I come back on March 24th."

"That's forever far, Bones," Parker protested again.

"Well, that is all the bad news, Parker," Brennan said. Parker began to pout. He yanked his hand away from Brennan's and folded his arms as he sat back into the couch.

"Just like Dad," Parker muttered.

Brennan looked up when heard him saw these words. Yes, it was true that Parker had initially supported Booth's decision to reenlist. He had actually made one of the most simplistic and effective arguments for it. And, deep down, Parker still did support it. It didn't mean, though, he had to like it. Or, on certain days, might not resent Booth's absence. After all, he was still a little boy... missing his father... at a time when boys need their fathers very much and a year is a very, very long time... now, here Brennan was threatening to take away the lifeline that Parker had been using to keep his access to his father's world open. So, the resentment she heard in Paker's voice, completely understandable and didn't really surprise her. She felt an overwhelming desire to comfort him.

Immediately, Brennan scooted closer to Parker and gently raised his chin to meet her eyes. "I know seven weeks is a long time, Parker, and I know, like when you're dad left a lot of people kept telling you it was a good thing he was going to go because he was doing his duty."

"Yeah," Parker sighed. "And I'm glad he went, but still. It's a long time... and now you're leaving me."

"We all have duties to fulfill, Parker," Brennan said gently.

"Yeah, well, sometimes... duty sucks," Parker mumbled.

Brennan shrugged, "But it doesn't mean that we don't do our duties when it's the right thing to do."

"I guess," Parker said.

"So," Brennan said. "Now that you've heard the crappy news, do you want to hear the good news or not?"

"Whatever," Parker said.

Adding a hint of sternness to her voice that she had come to realize that Parker responded to when she needed to get his attention, Brennan said, "Parker."

Sighing, Parker looked up and said, "Yes, I would like to hear the good news, Bones."

"Better," Brennan said. She paused and then said, "The good news is that you aren't going to miss any weekends. I worked it out with your mom and Uncle Jared. He's going to spend time with you just like you would if it were my weekend with you. He even promised that week after next, you guys can finally take that camping trip with Pops that you guys have been planning in Shenandoah National Park."

"Pops said he was gonna teach me how to fish after the last time with Dad was so horrible," Parker said, a bit of hope coming into his voice.

Brennan smiled, "Yes, and when your Dad gets back, you'll be a better fisherman than he is. We'll go to Assateague Island with my dad and you and me and Booth, and you can show your dad how superior your fishing skills are to his."

At this, Parker smiled. "That would be kinda cool… especially if Max was gonna go with us."

"Sure," Brennan said. "Two of the favorite things my dad loves to do in the world is fish and prove his superiority to Booth whenever possible. He'd love to go if for no other reason than that."

Parker smiled and then laughed. "Dad is such a bad fisherman."

Brennan chuckled. "Well, even as talented as your dad is, Parker, he can't be great at everything."

"You promise we'll go when you get back?" Parker asked.

Brennan nodded.

It was then that Parker's face fell a bit as he said, "Oh, I forgot… Dad still will have another five months by then. We'll have to wait until the end of the summer to go."

Brennan had to repress a smile. She chose her words carefully as she said, "What if I told you you might not have to wait until the end of the summer to go fishing with your dad, Parker?"

Hope blossomed again in Parker's eyes as he said, "I would say that would be totally awesome, Bones."

"I can't promise anything," Brennan said tentatively. "But let's just say I have a very good feeling that your dad might be home sooner than you think."

"Really?" Parker asked.

"Like I said, I don't know for sure… it's just… a feeling," Brennan struggled with the word. However, she smiled as she repeated, "It's just a feeling I have, but, yes, really."

Parker reached forward at this and pulled Brennan into a tight hug. She was surprised, but felt gratified and returned the affectionate gesture. Smiling, she then said, "I'm going to miss you, Parker, but I promise, I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I'll miss you, too, Bones."

Brennan smiled as she pulled back from the hug. She think reached up and brushed a stray hair out of Parker's eyes as he looked up at her and smiled. "Hey, Bones?"

"Yes, Parker?"

"Wherever you're going… can you bring me back a t-shirt?"

Brennan couldn't help but chuckle at this. She nodded, and then the pair rose to see how they're dinner was progressing, happiness and hopeful affection now settled over the pair once more.

* * *

><p>The weekend with Parker had been wonderful, but it was the last time I could allow myself the luxury of thinking the thoughts of Temperance Brennan. Seth, good as his word, arrived two days before my scheduled flight. When he was done, Temperance Brennan no longer existed. She was gone, and in her place stood Andi Anderson, AP freelance reporter en route to Bagram, Afghanistan… and Sergeant Major Seeley J. Booth.<p>

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	12. Ch11:The Gathering Turbulence

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 11 – "The Gathering Turbulence"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "People say you only live once, but people are as wrong about that as they are about everything. In the darkest moments before dawn a woman returns to her bed. What life is she leading? Is it the same life the woman was leading an hour ago? a day ago? a year ago? Who is this man? Do they lead separate lives or is it a single life shared? A storm approaches. It is still over the horizon, but there is lightning in the air. Are either of them aware of the gathering turbulence? Can they feel the crackle of electricity in the wind, or are they aware of only the power that they generate between themselves? The first hint of this storm is not a thunderclap... it is a knock."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

The first time I met Hannah Burley, she was singing. Okay, technically, it was part humming/part speaking the lyrics to that song. However, I knew as soon as I met her that first time, I wasn't going to like her. If I were Booth and believed in signs, I would have taken the song she was humming/mumbling to be a sign.

"Oh mother dear we're not the fortunate ones," Hannah had hummed softly. Her eyes were closed as she sat in her plane seat, two rows ahead of mine. I knew it was her as soon as I saw her. We were the only two members on this flight into Kabul that weren't in military fatigues. And, it that didn't help, the fact that she was a woman, blonde, and apparently leggy were also additional tip offs. She was already seated and buckled in, her white iPod ear buds swaying with her head as she moved it to the beat of her music. "Some boys take a beautiful girl… and hide her away from the rest of the world…."

I frowned, something I had worked very hard not to do since becoming Andi. Temperance Brennan frowned a lot. Andi Anderson didn't. But I couldn't help it. The blonde, the song… like I said, if I had believed in something like signs or portents, I would have said that it was a bad sign what she was singing. I hated that song now, I really did. And, of course, Hannah Burley would be singing it.

Sharking my head, giving a sympathetic glance to the young soldier sitting next to her. He smiled when he saw me, and didn't seem bothered by Hannah's slight rocking, foot tapping, and mumbling. Why, I can't imagine – perhaps he seemed oblivious to Hannah's murmurings in favor of her physical attributes. What I didn't notice at the time is that my seat companion, an older but still very young airman seemed to be giving me the same look Hannah's companion was giving her – positive visual affirmation of the appreciation of… me? Now, when did that happen?

Several hours later, we disembarked, and I found myself standing next to Hannah with our bags at our feet as we waited for the jeep that would take us back to the barracks where we would be stationed. It was the first time Hannah had had a chance to talk to me, and she wasn't wasting any time sizing me up. Little did she already know that I had spent the hours on the plane mentally cataloging what *I* thought of *her*.

At first glance, she was pretty. Blonde, but pretty. She exuded energy… Angela would say she seemed 'fun'. She was intelligent… but very, very self-involved. I suspected once I talked with her I would be able to add self-centered to that list of attributes, but I digress. Hannah was what Angela might also call 'a breath of fresh air'. But, like girls I had known in high school, Hannah could also be exhausting. I was willing to bet she was an extrovert. I could hear, during the plane ride, her questioning her seat companion… not just about him, but about what they could expect when they arrived. She was subtle in that… manipulative and controlling. Both good instincts for a reporter to have… she was also smooth… no matter how I tried to be smooth, Andi just wouldn't be able to overcome Temperance's natural handicap in social smoothness. So, I decided if I was going to make mistakes, the best thing I could do was something Temperance never did… be self-depreciating. There was an ancient sayings the Romans had… 'mea culpa'… roughly translated 'my fault.' I would use that term… make it my own. And use it to get me out of a tight spot when I needed to… and I would laugh.

Right off the bat, I could tell that was one of the main differences between Hannah and I… she was struggling to live up to the carefully crafted persona she portrayed to people. My current unusual (and somewhat comically ironic) situation aside, I normally simply was who I was. I think Angela would say Andi was more 'genuine' than Hannah ever could be. And, so, armed with this analysis, I watched Hannah give me the once over.

I didn't want to instinctually hate her... but... here she was. The woman that could and would take Booth away from me. Okay, maybe that's not exactly fair. He wasn't mine yet... not really... to be taken away from... and I had told him no. But, still. I can't help it. I love him, and he's mine. I had come to realize that while I initially started out all these grandiose plans... the secrecy... the lies... with a rational set of goals in mind, the living of the process was something very different. I had started out confronted with a set of data presented to me from a dubious source. Said data set... which I reluctantly came to believe had some validity, indicated that my actions at the Hoover meant that I was going to lose Booth to Hannah Burley. It was inevitable unless the varables of the experiment changed.

Early on... I don't think I realized I had already changed variables because I realized that I loved Booth when I did. But, then again, I had been told I came to that realization in Maluku when I actually went... and that realization hadn't been enough to change the situation in my favor. So, I tried to change over things... reinforce them for a time when Booth and I would need things to be as they were... but simultaneously make myself more independent from Booth... just in case. Part of me wanted to be certain... if he came back from Afghanistan with Hannah... I would have something separate from him that I could hang on to... The idea of facing an emotional breakdown on a November evening in Woodlawn didn't really appeal to me. So, plan A had been to do what I needed to do, rationally, calmly... without anyone making me second guess my plans. Looking back... I can honestly say there might have been a part of me that knew Angela would look at me and say... _'Bren, I love you... and your ability to concoct these wildly fantastically complicated plans... but you don't really need to do that. Here's why...' _And, maybe, just maybe... aside from not wanting to be selfish and interrupt her dream of living in Paris, that's why I kept my return to DC from her. Booth... well... he probably would have told me the same thing. Yes, it's true I didn't want him to know I never went to Maluku because then he might do something I hadn't anticipated... this way, this way was better because I was maintaining control of the situation. Maybe, as I'd later find out, I hadn't been doing the best job... but, a logical person who is trying to be logical while in the throes of an emotional tempest doesn't necessarily make the most logical choices. It only seems like I was... at the time it all made sense... but... for better or worse... here I was... and here Hannah was. We were both here... and now I'd be able to see... really see if, when given the choice, would Booth chose me... or her.

My mother's words echoed to me... _'why don't you just tell him you love him'_?

Was it fair of me to take control of the situation, place him in a position where I'd be able to see if he'd leave me or not, and do so by any means necessary? No... probably not. But, experiments aren't fair. They just are... yes, later it would bother me at the time that I was equating things to an experiment... but... at the time, like I said... perspectives can be skewed when anthropologists become too involved with what they're studying. That's why I never would have made a good ethnographer. I just can't separate myself from things, ironically, when emotions are involved.

Add an insecurity like Booth's attraction to blondes, and I was done.

She had already introduced herself. We had chatted a bit about our planned stays. Hannah didn't like silences, somewhat surprising to me when I realized that point because journalists use long silences as a trick to get people to speak… just like interrogators. So, it was surprising when she started chatting.

Nodding at my larger suitcase, she said, "Lots of stuff you have there."

I looked at my suitcase, carry-on messenger bag, and laptop bag. It was a medium size suitcase… certainly small when I considered I would be spending seven weeks here. And nothing that wasn't manageable, particularly when I had managed to handle all my own gear just fine during our flight from Kabul to the Helmand Province, where we were currently waiting for the jeep to take us to the post. However, when I glanced at Hannah's worn and very full green duffel bag, I mentally checked off yet another a key difference in style between us.

"I ripped my last duffel bag in the middle of an airport in Honduras," I said truthfully. "Ever since then, I've gone with the suitcases. They wear better in my experience."

Hannah shrugged. "I don't like having a lot of material goods with me. I like being able to get up and move on the fast, you know? Might miss a good story otherwise."

I eyed her as I said, "The best stories aren't necessarily the ones that you have to catch." I considered my words carefully, thinking of Andi's past articles. "In my opinion, the best pieces you can write are the ones that happen when you find yourself in the middle of something… the story finds you, if you will."

Narrowing her eyes a bit, Hannah nodded. "True, but that's the difference between us video people and you print gals." Hannah had earlier given me a brief, but intense look of disdain when she found out that I wasn't television, but had print credentials. "Sometimes you have to put yourself in the position to be in the place to let the story find you, you know?"

She then leaned forward, somewhat conspiratorially, and said, "For example, did you know that in the village, the one closest to the barracks we're being assigned, it's reported that one of the Taliban's chief opium dealers frequents a café every evening?"

Brennan narrowed her eyes. "No, I didn't know that."

Hannah shrugged. "You didn't hear it from me, but getting an interview with that guy would make a hell of a story, don't you think?"

"And how do you intend to make contact with him?" I asked.

Narrowing her eyes, Hannah said suspiciously, "Who says I do?"

I shrugged. "Drugs.. the Taliban... in a warzone… that's prime Peabody material to me, isn't it to you?"

Hannah shrugged again. "Sure. But, don't forget… that village is in Marja… restricted zone, even for us. We go off base, and not only could our status be revoked and could they ship us back to the States, we could get arrested."

I raised an eyebrow, and baited Hannah, "But for the right story, it's worth it, right?"

A look came into Hannah's eyes. She nodded, a sense of understanding coming into her eyes, one kindred spirit to another, it seemed. "Of course, an interview like that would have enough copy, more than enough copy for both television and print stories," Hannah said.

I raised an eyebrow, "Yes, it would."

"And if we had a chance to make contact with the Taliban leader, just pass him a note to get his attention and set up a meeting later, outside the restricted zone, we wouldn't need to be in said restricted zone very long," Hannah surmised.

"It would make a very good story," I conceded. One that would make John tickled. Then I recalled something I vaguely remembered. The words 'restricted zone' and 'café' rang in my mind.

And, then I knew, that was it. This was the opportunity I needed. I just needed to convince Hannah.

"I'll do it," I said. "You write the note… I assume your Arabic script is better than mine. I can't write it very well. If you write a passable note, and tell me who I'm looking for and where I need to go, I'll make contact. We split the story… television rights to you for the interview, print rights to me."

Hannah looked up at me, somewhat impressed.

"I could get a note written... I... I think he's literate, although I'm not even sure where he's from originally. I would need to double check my information, but, yeah, that could work." Hannah's voice trailed off. You sure you up for such a dangerous first day in Afghanistan?" Hannah asked, suddenly giving me a look of approval.

Not for a story, I thought, but to get arrested by the right Ranger? Any day. However, I didn't tell her that. The look that shone in my eyes as I thought of Booth must have made her think I was thinking of the story. "Anything for a byline, right? Isn't that the motto?"

Hannah laughed, and nodded. "I like you, Andi. This might just be the beginning of a beautiful partnership." She paused, and then looked up again and said, "Okay, it's a deal. We'll do it right after evening prayers are ended, but before the next meal. It should be less crowded then, and since we aren't expected at the briefing until tomorrow morning, we have some free time tonight."

I nodded in agreement. And that was how I found myself in the middle of Afghanistan, in the middle of one of the most dangerous, fractious provinces in all of the worn torn nation, carrying Hannah's note. Sneaking off base had been child's play. Then again, it wasn't really sneaking off. Hannah and I had informed the ranking officer who came and visited us once we had arrived to welcome us to the base. Apparently, Hannah's words were not surprising to the officer; I would later find out that she had somewhat of a reputation in military circles for… being difficult when it came to following protocols. She told the officer, vaguely, where and when we would be going to set up an interview. She omitted the exact location, vaguely saying we would be on the boundary of the restricted zone, but not actually entering it. We were strongly discouraged, but told we were on our own if we went. Of course, go we did. Getting into the village was particularly easy in the two black burkas Hannah had somehow procured. She waited at the edge of the settlement, pointing out the café where I would find the man in question. She wished me good luck, patted me on the back, and gave me a little push forward. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. There was something in the air. It was an energy… and it was familiar. Danger, yes. Excitement, yes. And being watched… yes, someone was watching me.

Nevertheless, I let things fall out as they would. I proceeded to the café, looking for the man in question. I quietly dropped the note at his table once I identified him, easily, from Hannah's directions. He gave me a curious look, but said nothing as I had said nothing. He returned to his drink. I turned to go.

It was then things happened fast… so fast. The whizzing of bullets I was used to… that happened quite frequently on the job with Booth. Guttural yells, not in English, followed. There was a shuffling, and sand flew up in my eyes. My brain heard, but processed a bit second too late, the shouted words 'get down!'

More bullets flew. And, then, I felt my eyes roll up into the back of my head as I momentarily was unable to breathe. A blur of khaki had come towards me and penned me down. The burqa obscured most of my face, and I struggled for breath as a more yells sounded. A few more shots were fired, and then all was quiet. Although I would later figure out that everything had happened in the span of ninety seconds or less, it seemed a very long time before the heavy pressure got off my chest. At last I could breath again. But, it was only for a few seconds, before I felt something violently wrench my right arm in the up direction. Jerking me to my feet, I was suddenly pulled eye to eye with one very pissed off Seeley Booth. Sighing, he narrowed his angry eyes at me as he muttered, "What the fuck!"

I felt the air go out of my lungs. I had never responded to Booth's last phone call. That had been over a month ago… maybe more. There was no way he could know it was me… not this soon. He hadn't even seen me! But, why else would he answer me with those words?

I didn't learn the words as Booth didn't let go of my arm dragged me in the direction away from the café. He mumbled something into a radio, and then produced a pair of plastic wrist ties. "I don't know who in the hell you think you are, but you are under arrest."

And that was how I met Booth again for the first time in over five months. Only this time, he didn't know it was me... at least, I was fairly certain that he didn't. Maybe...?

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	13. Ch12:An Anthropological Inevitability

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M (fair warning... here's the 'other stuff later' previously mentioned)

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 12 – "An Anthropological Inevitability"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Booth. Humans act upon a hierarchy of needs, and sex is very highly ranked. It's an anthropological inevitability."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

He arrested me. Again. And I was pissed. And, perhaps it was that anger that caught his attention. The anger combined with the fact of what I looked like under the burqa. Once we returned to the base, Hannah was there (how she had managed to get back that quickly, I still don't know to this day), as were two of the more senior officers who awaited the jeep carrying Booth, his spotter, and me. A debriefing made it clear that whoever Booth saw, it wasn't Dr. Temperance Brennan. All he seemed to see was a journalist who had almost screwed up his carefully planned operation.

Sometime later, Hannah dragged me out to a small area outside the where she and I were bunking where a couple of palm trees stubbornly managed to grow in the wilds of the harsh Afghan weather. It was early February, and the normal high should have been about 40F. It was almost the height of the rainy season, so in addition to it being cold, it was very humid and very wet. However, this particular February had begun with an unusual bit of a warm spell. The temperatures had been averaging more like it was April or May… mid-60s for the most part. The weather wasn't quite what I expected. Balmy, I guess, is the best description. Anyway, the enlisted men had managed to put together this informal sitting area when the weather was cooperating. It was better than being in the cramped barracks or mess hall. The sun wouldn't go down for a couple more hours, and a few off duty men sat drinking what I could only guess was some type of locally bottled beer. I grudgingly went with Hannah, but I declined one of the proffered bottles. Truth to be told, I was still a bit shaken by what had happened today. I don't think I realized that even though I knew I wouldn't die… I almost *was* killed. It's a lot for the rational mind to take in… combined with the embarrassment of being arrested by Booth and annoyance at being dressed down by the unit's commander.

"Andi's had a rough day, gents," I could hear Hannah saying.

I looked at the group and tiredly rolled my eyes. "Of course, all you had to do was write a note, Hannah..."

The men chuckled at this. Hannah gave an innocently bashful look to them, as if to say 'who, me?'… shot me a sharper look, and then resumed regaling her court of onlookers with another tale.

Turning to stare back off into the distance, I contemplated beginning work on my story… I kept my notepad and a pen in my pocket… I figured now was as good a time as any to begin writing a few notes. I didn't have much of a story for John yet, but I did have a lead, and that was something at least.

I dragged my folding chair a bit away from Hannah's group of admirers and turned with my back on the group to concentrate in peace. I had begun to make some headway in outlining the article when a shadow fell over me. I then felt perspiration drip over my left shoulder as I saw that a cold bottle of the green alcohol was being proffered to me.

"Truce?" the words came.

I turned around, and there he was. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning. He gestured with the bottle again, and said, "What'd you say?"

Reluctantly, I grabbed the bottle, twisted the top, and took a drink. All in all, it wasn't that bad. Not like a hops-based beer. I'm not sure what this was… maybe something based on ginger? It wasn't bad, once you got over the fact that you were expecting a traditional lager. Booth moved to squat down next to me as he took a sip of his own beer.

"I'm Booth," he said simply.

"I know who you are," I couldn't help but admit honestly.

Nodding, "Yeah, our introduction wasn't normally how I have gone about things, but what's done is done."

I took a chance to look at him, honestly look at him, to see if there was any sign of recognition. Surely, this man… my partner… the man who had said he was in love with me (albeit in not so many words)… surely, this man would be able to know me anywhere? Through any disguise?

Then Seth's words came back to me… '_The true secret to the art of deception, Dr. Brennan is knowing that the biggest advantage one has is letting people see what the expect to see._'

But, there was no recognition, no flicker of anything in Booth's demeanor. I, however, did recognize his mood. Something about me *had* caught his attention. He was curious. That's why he was talking to me.

He took my silence as a sign he was not making the progress he hoped. Nodding at me, I saw Booth decide to switch tactics. If friendliness wouldn't work… maybe charm would.

He smiled at me… that goddamn smile that both his brother and his son have… hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Hank had it too… but coming from Booth, coming from the original – well, as much as Jared and Parker could get it to do me to do pretty much whatever the hell they wanted… the original was more devastating. It took a great amount of will power to not melt into a warm pile of goo at his feet. Particularly, when he spoke… "So, you're the AP's new reporter… Anderson isn't it? Andrea Anderson?'

Locking his eyes with mine, I narrowed them and said, with just a touch of the earlier hostility in it, "Andi."

Booth shrugged. "Well, you'll forgive me if I say I'd really just prefer it if you called me Booth."

"Why?" I asked, even though I already knew the question. Arching an eyebrow, I asked, "Aren't I good enough to use your first name?"

There was that flash again. Curiosity. It was back. Smiling a muted version of that earlier smile, Booth said, "Sure... but...I just hate my first name."

"How bad can it be?" I asked, playing along.

"Bad," Booth replied. He took another swig of his beer, before he extended a hand and said, "It's Seeley. But I would really appreciate if you didn't say that too loudly. I already take enough flack from the guys for it, They like to call me 'Sarge Seel'. Putting aside the fact that only my mother and one of my very persistently annoying old friends insists on calling me it, I've pretty much just always gone by Booth."

I took his hand and shook it. "Fair enough."

Nodding at the notebook in my lap, Booth said, "So what are you working on there?"

I shrugged, "Notes for a story… but it's kind of hard because there aren't a lot of quiet places to go." I then gestured at Hannah's growing group of hangers-on.

He narrowed his gaze, and nodded, before he said tentatively, "What if I told you I know a place that's quiet… I go there sometimes to think. Would you want me to show you where it is?" His eyes then snapped up to mine, and he said quickly, "As a way for me to say I'm sorry for practicing my best defensive sack tackle on you?"

Hmm… Booth… offering to take me someplace private, away from Hannah? I didn't have to be asked twice. I placed the notepad and pen back in the pocket of my cargo pants, shifted the bottle of beer from one hand to the other, stood and nodded. "Lead the way."

* * *

><p>Booth and Brennan walked a little bit, through the barracks, past the comm tent, around a small kitchen garden started by some of the enlisted men, several turns, and then suddenly, there was a tree. It was shaded, and Brennan recognized it immediately. It was a fig tree.<p>

Booth gestured with his hand, "Have a seat?"

"In the dirt?" Brennan asked, unsure. Booth sighed. He then unclasped the jacket he was wearing. Ever the gentleman, he spread it out for her and said with a smile, "My lady?"

Brennan laughed. She then plunked down unceremoniously on the jacket. Booth sat next to her.

Brennan felt it, more than realized what was happening before her brain caught up to processing things. She could feel warmth radiating from Booth, and it made her dizzy for a moment. Even with the colored contacts, Brennan wouldn't have been surprised to know that her eyes had darkened. Booth seemed to sense something had shifted as well. However, he remained where he was. Brennan sighed, wondering if she would ever been in a position where Booth would take the role as the aggressor again after what had happened that night in front of the Hoover. Then again, maybe he was gun-shy about taking the offensive with Brennan, why should he with Andi? She wondered if maybe he just needed a sign.

Turning to him, Brennan said, "I need to thank you."

"Why's that?" Booth asked, starring out into the sand dunes that fringed the horizon of the setting sun in the far distance.

Brennan nodded and said, "Today. Even though you arrested me… you did save my life. Thank you."

Booth turned to look at her. Brennan took a sip of the beer, and then lifted her eyes to meet Booth's gaze. Her tongue darted out, and she was unconsciously whetting her lips. Booth suddenly felt a stirring, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Brennan leaned in a bit, as Booth mumbled, "You're welcome." He then added with a smirk, "Even if you were in a restricted area, and it's your own fault you needed saving."

Brennan's mouth opened in a bit of an indignant o-shape. She began to pull away when, again, it happened very, very quickly, Booth grabbed her hand, pulled her toward him, and they kissed.

In her rational brain, Brennan knew that, yes, Booth was kissing her again. Yes, Booth was kissing her again, and yes, she really liked it. It *was* better than she remembered… and she had spent a LOT of time focused on there three kisses in the months since he had left and she had returned to DC.

The kiss began to deepen… Brennan wasn't certain who acted first to deepen it… if it was Booth's tongue that went from sucking on her bottom lip to trying to slip deeper into her own mouth… or if it was she who extended her tongue to try and pull his to hers. But soon, the need to breath air, not each other, parted them. Chests breathing heavily, Brennan looked and saw Booth's normally chocolate brown eyes had darkened. Yes, curiosity was still present, but it had been joined by something else… desire, of course… and, yes, Brennan recognized that look. Surprise, Booth was surprised by something.

Needless to say, she felt her chest breathing in an out rapidly. Hadn't this been what her mother… no, her hallucination, told her was going to happen? Whether it was Hannah or her, Booth was going to kiss a woman under a fig tree in Afghanistan. And, suddenly, ghost, dream, hallucination, it didn't really matter – Brennan was very, very happy to be the woman Booth was kissing, if for no other reason than the fact that it felt good, very good.

Her tone taking on an unexpected gravel, Brennan said, "I would like to do something to show you how grateful I am for you saving my life today, Booth."

Booth's tongue darted out to whet his own bottom lip as he breathed, "And what would that be?"

"What would you like for me to do?" Brennan said.

Booth leaned in, and kissed her once more. And this time, Brennan got the message perfectly.

* * *

><p>I have to admit that if anyone had ever asked me when the first time Booth and I would ever have sex, I would have bet a million dollars that it wouldn't be in the setting sun under a fig tree in Afghanistan. But, it was.<p>

In a way, a small part of my mind howled in protest. _This wasn't how it was supposed to be_. Booth and I… the first time we were together… we were supposed to make love, become one, break the laws of physics, and all that crap. We were never just supposed to have sex… but, it really isn't fair to say that when I fell back into the softness of his jacket, pulled him on top of me, and let things go from there, it wasn't anything more than one of the best fucks I've ever had.

At one point, Booth did pull away. He rolled off me, and I sat up. My hair was disheveled… the sweat shirt I had been wearing was discarded somewhere behind us... my white button down shirt was undone, revealing a blue tank top pushed up over nude colored bra. He had just unbuttoned the top two fasteners of my cargo pants when he pulled away.

"What is it?" I asked.

Booth looked up at me. His own t-shirt was wrinkled and his breathing was heavy despite the fact that the temperature had started to drop as the sun continued to set. He nodded at me, and said, "I just… before anything else happened, I had to tell you… *this*" He gestured between the two of us. "I don't normally do *this* kind of thing."

"Okay," I couldn't help but say, amused at his candor. "You're not the camp welcome wagon. Got it."

Booth sighed and said, "Honestly, Andi, I have *never* done something like this before."

"And now you're not sure you want to?" I asked, some doubt obviously creeping into my voice. _Seriously_, I thought, _he wasn't going to reject me was he_? I didn't know to be hopeful or fearful or both at the same time.

Booth, to his credit, moved forward and pulled me to him. He kissed me with enough skill that I was soon left in doubt as to how much he physically desired me.

"Oh, I want to," Booth said as he pulled back. "I really, really want to... I just… I've never..."

He seemed to be struggling for the words... so I tried to help. "Fucked?" I offered.

He shook his head with a laugh. "Had sex," he amended... "with someone that I didn't know at least a little something about," Booth said honestly.

I laughed. Finally, I nodded with a smile. "Fine, ten questions."

"What?" he asked confused.

"Ten questions. We'll each answer ten questions and then we'll know each other."

Booth's eyebrow arched, but he nodded.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No," I replied. "You?"

"A boyfriend?" Booth chuckled, shaking his head. "No." He then suddenly became serious again as she said, "And I don't have a girlfriend either."

"How long ago was your last serious relationship?"

Booth's brow furrowed, but he said, "I broke up with my last girlfriend three and a half years ago. You?"

I shrugged, thinking of Sully. "Serious? Probably… close to… a little over three years ago."

"Have you ever been married?" Booth asked, something different coming into his voice.

I slowly shook my head. "Nope. You?"

"No… do you ever see yourself getting married?"

"To the right guy, one day, sure," I said, without really thinking about it. I then nodded and was ready when he asked, "Do you have any kids?"

"No," I said truthfully. "Do you?"

"I do," Booth said. "A son. He's twelve."

"I love kids," I said, realizing at the instant it was true. "Someday, I want to be a mom," I added honestly.

"Where were you born?"

"Chicago."

"I'm from Philly."

"Where do you live?"

"DC… when I'm not on assignment."

Booth smiled at this. "Me too." He then said, "Morning person or night owl?"

"Hmmm," I replied. "That's a tough one… but probably night owl. I can work in the AM if I have to, but I do most of my writing after midnight." I nodded in response.

"Yeah, me too... I'm probably a night owl," Booth conceded. He thought for a moment and then smiled. "Vanilla or chocolate?"

"Definitely chocolate," I said, grinning. Even though I already knew, I asked, "And you?"

"I agree, chocolate," Booth said. He then leaned in to me, and said softly… "Final question, Andi?"

"Yes?"

"It's not what you are going to be expecting."

"Surprise me," I breathed.

"You don't by chance have a condom, do you?"

If there was anything that could have killed the mood, except for perhaps Hannah's giggle, it was that. I suddenly scoured my brain as I realized, nope, I didn't carry a condom in my cargo pants. Pen, notebook, compass, cell phone, yup? Contraceptives, no.

I sighed. "Fuck… no, I don't."

Booth turned away and sighed too.

I then narrowed my eyes, and pulled him back to me. We began to kiss, and I murmured in his ear, "I don't know if this makes any difference, and I know you have no reason to believe me… or trust me, but… I am on the pill… and my last test for STDs came back negative across the boards." I nibbled on his ear. I was pulling out all the stops. I really, really wanted him… inside me… as quickly as possible. Now that so many barriers that had prevented us when it was Brennan and Booth potentially sleeping together were removed… love, fear of losing each other, the FBI, our history… I just made up my mind that a lack of a goddamn condom wasn't going to do me in… Booth, I wasn't quite as sure about.

I felt him sigh at my words. He pulled back slightly. My hands had moved under his shirt, and I could feel his dog tags and St. Christopher medal flush against his chest. Damn, his heart was beating so quickly. And he was warm… so warm, and so… God, I don't even believe in any deities, but saying that exclamation felt right… God, I wanted him.

He looked back down at my hand and then glanced at my eyes, He leaned forward to kiss me again and mumbled against my ear, "I don't suppose a woman whose life I just saved would lie to me?"

"Nope," I murmured, teasing, testing… he pulled me into his lap, and I felt something warm begin to spread through my belly. My heart was racing, and I knew, I was ready for him… more than ready. Eager, even. We kissed again, before he pulled back… he then whispered, "I promise… I'm… you know… I'm clean, yeah?"

I nodded. At this point, I think if he had told me he was infected with the bubonic plague, I wouldn't have cared or stopped what we were doing. And, in a rustling of clothes, a shifting of bodies, neither one of us naked, rushed and frenzied, but oh so satisfied, I began to moan… nothing decipherable, but in my mind, I heard his name… Booth… Booth… Booooth.

And, for the first time since my hallucination had mentioned the words 'fig tree' I had come to hate that plant just a little less and, for once, maybe, thought kindly of it.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	14. Ch13:To Touch You

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 13 – "To Touch You"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "Listen, you said you wanted to do this alone because feelings are ephemeral. So is life, Brennan. We're here one minute and then we're gone the next. You should know that better than anybody! If you keep living trying to protect yourself, nothing is ever going to touch you."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

It took us a moment to come down, and when we did, I saw in his eyes… something. I'm not sure what is what… not love. I knew when he looked at me with love. But, gratitude… and satisfaction… and the curiosity was still there… and hope. For some reason, I saw hope in his alight in his eyes. We parted with a kiss, reluctantly, and I returned to the bunk I was assigned to share with Hannah. It had been several hours since she had seen me, and she was reading a magazine when I sauntered in replete with satisfaction and confident in the way that someone only can be after they've just had sex with a man like Booth.

Hannah eyed me curiously and said, "Where'd you disappear to, Andi?"

I smiled, and shrugged… and said simply, "I was with Booth."

Hannah grinned… and something about that grin made me uneasy as she said, "That stud who arrested you today?"

I nodded.

Hannah's grin widened. "He's a very good looking man… I wouldn't mind getting a shot at someone like that while I'm here."

I frowned at this and said, "Booth is a good looking man, Hannah, but—"

"But what?" Hannah asked. "He's good looking… and seems to be the most interesting guy out of the lot I've seen so far. I think I might have to see if I can find some excuse to be grateful to Sergeant Major Booth myself…."

My frown deepened, "You can't do that, Hannah. He's with some one… and those are the facts."

Again, Hannah raised an eyebrow, "And, again, I ask you… without arguing those facts… what do they mean to me?"

Jealously reared its ugly head, and I decided then, despite my best intentions not to… I hated Hannah. I really, really did.

But, then again, I was the one who could still smell Booth's scent all over me… Booth's scent and the scent of sex. I was the one whose cheeks were scrapped by his chin's stubble from not having shaved that morning. And I was then one, not to put too fine a point on it, who was a bit sore from a quick tumble due to his creative positioning and the fact that it had been a while for me.

It was some time... a long time, really, before I had a chance to really be alone with Booth again. I say really because I would be lying if I said we didn't find time to… spend with each other… quite creatively. During the first week, when we were going at each other like horny teenagers who had just had sex for the first time, things started to happen. It started with him sitting next to me at a meeting in the comm tent. A video conference had been set up... we were the only two people in the tent for the half hour the meeting uplink would last... although every now and then one or two soldiers came in for their own purposes. We were discussing, via video conference, outlines for a coordinated series of stories that John wanted run over how the Afghan military was responding to the new training techniques. Some of the discussion started to go a bit over my head... there were four separate hook ups with other soldiers and their embedded AP journalists in other units spread across the nation trying to figure out the most logical way to coordinate the stories without repetition or overlap or compromising various intel from different regions.

In what I would normally say was a very unexpected and unprofessional move, Booth started it by sitting next to me and rubbing my thigh under the work table. I pushed him away gently and tried to continue taking notes. My contribution was crucial given the fact that my location in Helmand made it one of the most unstable and rapidly responsive regions to any military procedural changes. A few moments passed, and then, there it was again. His hand had snaked from my knee this time to my inner thigh. He began to draw little lines up and down the khaki material of my pants, and I jumped a little at the ticklishness of it. I smiled, answered a question I had missed when I yelped, and decided to respond in kind. Letting my left hand fall to my side, I continued to take notes with my right hand while my left grabbed Booth's, squeezed it, and then swatted it away.

He chuckled under this breath at that, and I took the instance to let my hand remain on his thigh just a bit too long. Someone then took a chance to ask Booth a question, he began to answer, and seizing the opportunity to take advantage of his distraction, I moved my hand slowly to the snap just above his pants' zipper. I wriggled it free, and undid the second snap without Booth so much as breaking stride or moving a muscle. My retaliation escalated as he finished talking, folded both of his hands firmly on the table top, and arched a eyebrow wordlessly at me. I took up the unspoken challenge, half-listening, half-ignoring one of my colleagues rants against military protocol limiting the right way in which this series of reports should be published, and began to slowly, very slowly, pry the zipper of his pants free.

If anyone else had actually been physically present in the room, I don't think I would have had the guts to do what I was doing. Like I said, highly unprofessional... highly embarrassing if caught, but I couldn't help it. When I had inched the zipper free enough to wiggle three of my fingers into the opening I had made, Booth suddenly shifted in his seat and bumped his lap (and my hand) up under the hardside of the work table. Neither one of us said anything, but I mentally yelped at the hard contact. My decision made to escalate the situation again, I pulled back, adjusted my hand as inconspicuously as possible, and proceeded to do something one really shouldn't be doing during a video conference in a military setting. It's just not done.

How Booth managed to maintain his poker face, I'll never know, but to his credit, he did... until about three or four minutes in, beads of sweat started to form at his temples. Swallowing, he shifted out of view of the camera uplink, muttered something about technical difficulties, and yanked the power cord on the computer. I saw a look in his eyes that could only be described as half misery, half indignation. I moved forward, feeling unusually predatory in my movements, and took pity on him by finishing what I started. Needless to say, I think Booth enjoyed things... but giving him a hand job under the table was probably not the best thing to do to release my own mounting sexual frustration.

It took him three days, but Booth managed to have his revenge on me. How he did it, again, I still don't know, but somehow, he managed to get the drop on me in the showers one night when most everyone else was at dinner. He walked in on me. caught me in a situation that was embarrassing even if it was Booth that was doing the interrupting, as I had been taking advantage of said showers said emptiness… what can I say… it's not like I could get myself off when Hannah was sleeping across the room from me and I *had* been frustrated because of being so close to Booth but not being able to do anything about it... I was getting antsy. And I was almost there, too, when he caught me… but, Booth more than made up for the inconvenience his sudden appearance caused me by interrupting my rhythm. He then proceeded to demonstrate to me he was very skilled with both his fingers… and his tongue.

I damn near crumpled into a heap at his feet, wet and naked laying down on the floor of the showers… and by the time he had disappeared, I realized that while his white undershirt and casual khaki pants were a little damp when he left… he had seen me completely naked, and I was still in the dark about him (previous views of him in his bathtub and beerhat aside). The whole encounter had only lasted a few moments... and if anyone had caught us... again, it would have been trouble. Trouble for me, trouble for him. Trouble, with a capital T. Why we both were acting in such an uncharacteristic manner, I don't know... okay, I do know... but, if we kept pushing our luck, one day, we would get caught. I began to worry about that... but, there was also the nagging competitive side of me that wanted to keep one step ahead of being caught... and two steps ahead of Booth.

In our cold war of sexual theatrics, I upped the ante four days later. I couldn't help myself. Each situation seemed to end with an unspoken dare to the other to try and outdo the one who had just claimed victory. He had managed to get himself assigned to me as a part of an escort when I went to a small hamlet that we reached by Humvee. I was going to interview a member of the Afghan parliament, who had come home to visit his mother, about recent allegations of corruption within his own political party… another something John had set up for me. On our way back, I feigned getting sick. I couldn't just ask him to stop on the edge of the road in Helmand province, but I did set up the groundwork I would need for later.

Once we had arrived back at camp, it was late, and he talked to one of his men as everyone cleared out of the vehicle and went where ever they were going. I lagged behind, lingering on the far side of the vehicle. Booth said something as the soldier he had been talking to disappeared looking for something before they could finish signing the paperwork for the Humvee back into the motor pool. At this point, Booth looked at me, leaning against the far side of the Humvee. I visualized myself looking as pale and wane as I could... and he asked me if I was okay. I shook my head, he walked over to me with concern and a gentle hand to caress my cheek to see if I had caught a fever... and then I slammed him back against the Humvee... just out of sight from anyone approaching in the direction the soldier with the motor pool paperwork had disappeared with... I completely caught him off guard as I reached over, quickly untied his pants, and proceeded to give him what I think was a very satisfying blow job judging from the grunts and groans he made. Fast, dirty, and completely, completely the wrong thing to do in the wrong place. Again, we could have been caught... but weren't. I felt pleased with myself, but a bit scared to see how Booth would respond.

Apparently, Booth took this final act as me throwing down the gauntlet. He now felt a need to prove the superiority of his planning and romantic skills. At the end of week four, I was dozing with my laptop on my stomach from where I had been typing up the Afghan parliament member's interview. Booth, dressed in a t-shirt and pair of boxers, stuck his head in my door and signaled me with a low whistle. I bolted up, almost dropped the laptop, and saw him. He smiled, shook his head, and gestured for me to follow. Curious... I went as he managed to sneak me out of my bunk… Hannah was suspiciously MIA herself… and lead me back to his quarters.

They were much nicer than mine… and very pleasingly empty. The lights were dimmed… a couple of white votive candles shone on aluminum trays that looked suspiciously familiar – I was fairly certain I had seen them in the mess hall. The bed was standard issue linens, but appeared to be freshly made up with two pillows (TWO? I only got one! Bastard...) freshly plumped. Booth had set his iPod up next to the bed and the external speakers were playing some jazz very low… and when he pulled me to him, I could tell he had just showered and shaved. He smelled clean and fresh and so like the smells that my memory associated with Booth that it almost was too much, and I couldn't stand it. He pulled me in for a kiss, his skin smooth as he began to nibble at the place right where my neck met my shoulder. I mewled slightly, arching my back up into him.

"You like?"

I nodded against his shoulder. He continued alternating kissing and licking my shoulder. I was wearing a tank and a pair of yoga pants and not much else.

"My bunk mate… he's on patrol tonight, and I traded him my sat time in the comm tent to make himself scarce until dawn," Booth mumbled. "I thought this would be the perfect opportunity for me to demonstrate to you how grateful I've been at your... efforts on my behalf, without fear of us being interrupted."

My mind raced to think of what day it was… Friday? No… it wasn't Friday… so Booth hadn't traded his normal Skype session with Parker. The rational part of my mind, the one that wanted to point out that Booth was still pissed at Brennan and Brennan was still angry at Booth and they both had things to settle cataloged that minute detail away for further analysis. Who else had he been in contact with, I wondered. Jared or Cam, probably.

"An interesting plan," I murmured. He was half kissing, half licking from my shoulder, down around the spaghetti straps of my tank, and working his way down to my breasts.

"I thought so too," Booth said. "I'm glad you agree. kind of thought it was time to end the surprise sex acts that we've been satisfying ourselves with... and maybe go for something a bit more substantial."

However, at that point, I sort of forgot what I was thinking... honestly, I wasn't really capable of thinking or processing a verbal response to his words. I didn't respond verbally. My hands pressed his head to my chest, running through the shortness of his hair. It really was short... I could feel the scar where the tumor had been rumored as my hands went back and forth massaging his scalp... and then I moaned his name as he hit a particularly sensitive spot… and then vaguely recalled the old adage that in times of physical attraction, men are the only ones who can have the blood flow reversed south so that only one head at a time can operate. I know I was living proof at that moment how inaccurate and how unfair whoever came up with that saying was to women. Because, with all the blood flowing south, literally, I was proud of myself for coming up with enough coherent thought to moan Booth's name into his ear. And, at that point, we hadn't even gotten undressed yet. Yes, my tank was bunched around my waist as Booth tended to my chest, but that's besides the point.

I glanced at the clock as Booth pushed me onto the bed. It was only 11:47… dawn was at least several hours away, I thought with a grin. What a good night this was going to turn out to be….

* * *

><p>A few hours later, replete with several rounds of love making under their belt, rounds that had been interspersed with a few half-hour time outs of sleeping wrapped around each other, Brennan woke to a delicious feeling of being enveloped in Booth's arms. His chest was breathing up and down in a rhythmic motion, but she could still tell somehow that he wasn't asleep. Not moving a muscle, her eyes remaining closed, Brennan said sleepily, "Penny for your thoughts?"<p>

She felt him tense at her words, but almost instantly, the tension melted away. And then Booth said softly, "I'm just thinking about these past few weeks."

"Four weeks, yeah," Brennan murmured. "It's been a month."

She felt Booth nod… "A great month… and definitely not like I ever imagined the month of February would turn out to be."

At this, Brennan lifted her head and opened her eyes. With a questioning look, she asked, "What's wrong?"

Booth shrugged as his hand came up to play with a strand of her hair. It turned out that aside from her tits, the longer hair had turned out to be his favorite thing to play with during their lovemaking sessions. He twirled it around his fingers as he said, "It's just… you're only due to be here another three weeks, right?"

Brennan nodded. "I leave on March 23rd."

Booth nodded. He said drowsily… "I don't want to put any pressure on you, Andi, but… this thing here… between us… it's more than just sex for me."

At this, Brennan snapped wide awake. She pushed herself off Booth's chest and sat up. He looked at her concern immediately shadowing his eyes.

"Shit, I said something wrong, didn't I?"

Brennan laughed softly and shook her head. She leaned down to kiss him lightly on the lips. She then said, "Not at all. You just surprised me… I know… you told me the first night… this," she gestured at them, "This isn't something you normally do."

"No, it's not," Booth said honestly. "And if you asked me to tell you why you're different, I don't know that I could. I mean, you're gorgeous… beautiful. You know that… but it's more than just the sex… which is great, by the way. I just feel…" Booth paused and then nodded, as if testing the validity of the words. "I just feel better when I'm with you then I have in a very long time. Happy… alive… hopeful. And fun, God, you're fun, Andi. And, I don't want to lose that. I don't want... I don't want to lose you."

Brennan smiled sleepily. "You know, this doesn't have to be a desert fling if you don't want it to, Booth."

At that, Booth smiled the smile at her. Brennan was glad she had opened her eyes to see it. He said nothing but mouthed, "Yeah?"

Brennan nodded. "You're special to me too, Booth… and since we both live in DC… when you're deployment's over… maybe we should see what happens?"

The grin was pure Booth… and Brennan felt happy. Angela had once told her that she missed a lot by closing herself off to experiencing emotions… experiencing life. And she was right. To be touched… in that way, by Booth… it made her happy. More happy than she felt a right to be… especially given that her happiness seemed to be all based on a lie.

* * *

><p>Hannah proved to be a problem, I won't lie. After the first month, it became blatantly clear that she was sexually attracted to Booth, and she was determined to bed him. At first, I was annoyed, particularly because Hannah didn't care who Booth was spending his time with or any relationships he may have had. I think she suspected something between us, but, for some reason, she never pushed the issue with me and that didn't deter her in her other efforts.<p>

Being pursued by Hannah began to exasperate Booth, who, when faced with a beautiful blonde in active pursuit of him, he didn't know quite what to do aside from stealthily sneak away each time. He always told me what she had tried, I think because he thought it was amusing. The first time tried to grab his ass in the mess hall during breakfast one morning when he was still half asleep. The second time she cornered him near our fig tree. The third time she actually snuck into his bunk... when he was on night maneuvers... and embarrassingly awoke Booth's bunkmate. There may have been others, but he didn't tell me when he noticed that fact that I was jealous of Hannah, and that I felt threatened by her.

Whenever he mentioned her, I tended to get defensive... 'pouty' and 'hot' in his words. He told me the fact that I was threatened by Hannah was 'cute'. That particular comment resulted in me giving him a particularly had jab to the left rib cage in the mess tent. No one really noticed, but Booth seemed amused when I quietly finished eating and left the mess tent. I wandered in the direction of the fig tree, a good place to think in private as Booth had said – our romantic interludes there aside. Another romantic interlude ensued shortly thereafter when he materialized out of nowhere, tackled me, and then proceeded to witness how aggressive I can really be when threatened. Needless to say, after that point, Booth politely requested I style my nails a bit shorter, because, apparently, the scratches on his back from that particular encounter were a bit much – even for him.

All too soon, week four melted into week five and week five melted into week six. I couldn't really Skype or write postal letters to anyone, but as I had promised, I did maintain a fairly regular email correspondence with the Jeffersonian, Rebecca, Jared, and Parker. I was even tickled with myself when an hour going over digitized x-rays turned up a cause of death that had been stumping Clark and Wendell for two days. Cam relayed to me via email that Sully promised a round on him at the Founding Fathers upon my return. The brief interlude with Booth made me realize that all too soon March 24th would be upon us… and with it, my departure.

I was somewhat unhappy that Hannah would be staying behind after I left. I was only comforted by the fact that the Logan Bartlett case would result in Caroline Julian recalling the team about a week after I left Afghanistan and returned to DC. For the life of me, I wished I could remember more details about the case my mother – err, hallucination, had shared with me, but I didn't. All I remembered was that he was a little boy. Thus, I wasn't really surprised when I received an email a few days before I left that included a note for John about a recently discovered child's body.

His email had forwarded a story about a missing two-year old named Logan Bartlett. The remains were currently in the possession of the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab. Cam was refusing to confirm or deny the identity and was taking a lot of flack both internally and externally for it.

John had asked in his email, _'Maybe it's time to come home when the stories are showing up in your own sandbox?'_

That's not to say that he had not been pleased with my stories while I had been embedded with Booth's unit. The interview with the Taliban drug dealer that Hannah had eventually helped me secure was probably, in all honesty, the best thing I had written. True to her word, we had split the story, and it had done very well. I found that when we weren't competing for Booth's attention (and sexual favors), Hannah and I actually had worked very well together. But, I still hated her.

Two days before I was due to leave, Caroline Julian sent me an email. Caroline was a very tricky person to figure out. She knew when I had returned so soon after leaving to DC that I had never gone to Indonesia. When I asked her not to tell Booth or any of the others, she had given me a strange look.

"If you can give me a very good reason, cher, sure," she had said.

I bit my lip uncharacteristically, and nodded. Then I said, "I need to see who I am and who I can be in my life without leaning on Booth or Angela." I paused, realizing the reality of the words. I then pressed on, as Caroline watched me, "I realized I didn't need to go to southeast Asia to find the answers to the questions I had… but I still need those answers, Caroline."

Nodding, Caroline said, "Very good reason, cher." And that was that.

I often wondered, somehow, someway, if Caroline had known more about what I was doing and where I was going than anyone else because her email, succinct, was to the point… but ominously telling.

'_It's time to stop playing house, cher. Come home.'_

I'm not sure what Caroline meant by those words. It's not like she could possibly know what I was doing. But, nevertheless, she was right. It was time.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	15. Ch14:Gotta Move On

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 14 – "Gotta Move On"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "But I gotta move on. You know, I gotta find someone who's - who's going to love me in 30 years, or 40 or 50."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

The second time that Booth left me standing in an airport was much more preferable to the first. Instead of the look and the touch that started this whole odyssey, the look and the touch of 'want, want very badly, want so very badly, so very badly it hurts, but can't have'… the second time, I got a kiss. And, wow… what a kiss it was. Okay, to be as accurate as possible… it was an airstrip this time, not an actual airport, but still… much better than what had happened almost seven months before in DC. It was also the first time Hannah had actually seen Booth touch me. At first, I thought we had said our goodbyes in private at the base. But, he wanted to see me off… I was catching a ride on a C-130 troop transport that had dropped off a new set of recruits and would be refueling before heading back to Bagram Airbase and help me on my way to my ultimate destination in Kabul. But, apparently, Booth had other ideas when I went in to hug him one last time. He pulled me too him tightly… if I hadn't been distracted, I might have noticed he grabbed my ass, and then there was that kiss. It was tentative at first… and then it deepened… and then I started to black out from lack of air… and then I recognized what the kiss was really saying.

_Don't forget about me. Please. Don't forget about me... don't forget about us_.

There was a sense of desperation in that kiss. I… I, looking back, I think I know why. Booth was afraid of what he was letting go, I think. For a few weeks, in his own words, he had been happy. The happiest he had been in a really long time. While that stuck the proverbial knife in and twisted it in Temperance Brennan's guts, I enjoyed it as Andi Anderson for what it was.

We had had a long discussion the night before I left. He asked what the relationship meant again. Again, I reaffirmed, I didn't see it just as some fling… did he? No… while the sex was great, he had said, he told me that he thought that whatever this thing between us was might be able to go somewhere. I had winced when I heard those words… was he deliberately flaunting the past, or was his subconscious just echoing those words again?

So, we promised… he gave me his cell phone number for DC… I told him I would email him my new one when I got back and traded my global sat phone from the AP (read: Thank you, yet again, John) for my normal smartphone PDA. In reality, it would be much more simple… I merely needed to get a new ghosted number to feed to Brennan's phone. He promised to email me, I promised to email him. And, in five months he said, he'd be back in DC, and then maybe we could see where this thing was going?

I said yes, knowing two things… one, he would be back in DC thanks to Caroline Julian's call a lot sooner than five months and when he did come back… well, we were going to have to have a talk. All three of us… Booth, Brennan, and Andi. I planned right from the start to confess the lie to him. Now that I was convinced that Hannah was (for the most part) no longer a threat. But, doing so would be more difficult. I still needed to figure that part out.

And, so we said our goodbyes. I began the many hours trip back to DC. And somewhere in-between Munich and DC, I had to figure out a way to de-Andi-fy myself and become Dr. Temperance Brennan once more. I had purposely chosen a more circuitous route back to the states on my return leg. From Munich, there was a longer stop over in London… with enough time for me buy a wig. Really, I would need to see Booth as Andi at least once more in DC… so I couldn't do anything with my hair… but I also couldn't come back with dark black hair, bangs, and hair extensions as Temperance Brennan. So, a wig, a very good wig custom made by a wig maker that Seth arranged to fit me with by appointment in London would have to do for the few days I needed to be seen as Dr. Temperance Brennan in public. My skin, as Seth had anticipated, had indeed darkened in Afghanistan. I had a good tan going on… as anyone who spent seven weeks at an ancient Macedonian archaeological site should. The colored contacts would be taken out… and I purchased a single Brennan-esque echo warrior outfit at a London store before I had to make it back to Heathrow.

Before leaving London, I bought Parker a London 'tube' t-shirt… it wasn't from Afghanistan, but it would have to do.

Armed with my new tools, Andi Anderson boarded the plan in Heathrow and made a connecting flight at JFK. However, after a stop in the first-class airport lounge bathrooms… after I had cleared customs and immigration, it was Dr. Temperance Brennan who boarded the flight from JFK to Reagan. And two hours later, it was Dr. Temperance Brennan who was being picked up by a very happy looking Jared and Parker Booth.

* * *

><p>"So how was the dig, Tempe?" Jared asked as he helped me with my bags.<p>

I smiled, still hugging Parker in a very tight grip. "Very illuminating… I learned… *a lot*."

Parker finally disentangled himself from me and began to chatter about the fishing trip that Jared and Hank had taken him on a few weeks earlier.

As a matter a fact, with a smile, Jared nodded, and mouthed, "He's been like this since he woke up this morning. Just won't stop talking."

"Why is he so excited?" I mouthed back.

Jared's eyebrows raised and he nodded at me. This time, I understood perfectly. Parker had missed me.

* * *

><p>Despite Parker's protestations, after a trip to the diner for a meal, I went home to my apartment. At any moment, I was expecting a proverbial brick wall with my name on it to appear in front of me. Jet leg and multiple time zones meant I wouldn't be of much use tomorrow. I did, however, agree to let John meet me at my place for a final AP debriefing and to turn over my final copy to him and the AP equipment I had.<p>

The day after, however, I was going to let Sully and Payton pick me up and take me to the lab. And let Cam fill me in on the Logan Bartlett case.

The morning I arrived in the Jeffersonian, I was greeted by Cam with a hard hug. Even though I had only been gone a few weeks this time, things were bad. Sully and Payton were doing what the could to mitigate the heavy attention Cam was getting from the press in my absence. After going over the case, I could see why she didn't want to make the ID. She's not a forensic anthropologist, after all... the bones just don't say the same things to her that they do to me. But, that said, even I couldn't immediately confirm or deny the identity at first glance either. I needed to talk to Clark and Wendell… and then I needed to do my thing with the bones. I sighed, torn. I needed to get working with the bones immediately, but I also needed to see Parker. I was supposed to pick him up from school, take him to the enrichment classes at the Jeffersonian, and take him home for dinner and a video before dropping him off at Rebecca's. It would be the last chance I had to see him before Booth's return.

I had this confirmed later in the day when I saw Caroline Julian. She nodded at me, and said. "I'm glad you took my advice and realized it was time to come home, cher."

I nodded, but said nothing. Caroline continued. "I've already called the Bugman and his lady love. They should be here in three or four days."

"And Booth?" I asked.

"I was going to give you another day or so, cher, before I called your knight in shining armor back home," Caroline said. "But, I would expect he'll be here soon too."

Caroline was right. The next day, the 28th, she called Booth. And somewhat humorously, at least to me, he confirmed he would be back in DC on the 1st… April Fool's Day. Hmmm.

The night before Booth was due back, I went to his apartment one last time. I would meet Jared in the morning to give him back Booth's key. We both had agreed he would let me explain what had happened in his absence with Parker and the apartment. I was grateful for that. I went by the apartment ostensibly to make sure the refrigerator had been emptied, replace the bottle of Scotch I had drank (uggh!), make sure the bed sheets had been changed and the bed was made… and ensure that no tell-tale signs that said 'Bones was here' were visible.

I did all this and more and should have left. But, I couldn't help myself. I hadn't seen him for eight days. Not a very long time in the span of most things… but when you finally are with the man you love… and you get used to being around him… and, I am not going to lie, having sex with him… and suddenly that's gone, you can begin to ache a bit for him.

It was stupid, I know, but I couldn't help myself. I decided to spend one last time in his bed (who knows if I would ever have the chance again?)… since I had done it on the spur of the moment, again, I had to borrow another dress shirt. This one, I decided, I would take with me. It was selfish and shallow and stupid, but I wanted it. And then I crawled under the blankets and slept. Not surprisingly, I dreamed of Booth. I dreamed of how he looked at me, how he touched me, how he tasted… how he felt. It wasn't really any surprise to me that I awoke fairly worked up. And, again, I am not going to lie and say it may not have been the smartest thing to do, but I would have probably had a very bad day on the one day when I needed all my rational faculties about me if I didn't do something to ease the tension. So, I did. It wasn't as good as if Booth had been there… but it would do. At least, once my vision cleared and I felt a little less tightly wound, I knew I would be able to do what I had to do and go to that damn coffee cart… and listen to Booth tell me he had met another woman in Afghanistan… at least, this time, it wasn't Hannah Burley he would be telling me about.

* * *

><p>The meeting at the coffee cart went much as one would expect. Brennan turned… and Booth was there. He smiled… and she smiled, and before she could remember herself, she threw herself into his arms.<p>

A little later, the chat had turned serious….

"So…was it dangerous in Afghanistan?"

Brennan resisted the urge to frown. '_Now, that's not the complete truth now, is it?_' she thought.

"Nah…what I did was mostly administrative."

"Because you seem really very heavily armed in this photograph."

"What about you? Any headhunters or cannibals?"

Brennan bit her lips at this, and merely shook her head. "Things were surprisingly… dull while I worked. Very typical, all things considered."

Booth gave her a strange look, but said nothing for a moment. He then brightened and said, "Aww… Bones! So, did you meet anyone special?"

* * *

><p>And there it was… the question. If I hadn't have been a coward… I might have just taken this golden opportunity to rip off my wig, shake out my hair, and give him that sexy smile that I know now wraps him proverbially around my smallest finger. Then, it would have been the perfect time to say… <em>YES, YOU<em>!

Instead, I countered… "You mean, did I have sex with anyone?"

Booth laughed. "I missed that about you, you know? You just cut right to the chase; yeah."

I didn't want to outright lie… so I stalled… by evading. "I was working…"

"Hmm."

Now, if I didn't know better, I would say I had said something suspicious. So, I tried the deflect/evade maneuver again. "How about you?"

Booth smiled this time. Bingo… the deflection had worked. He smiled a smile that I had come to recognize as his 'Andi-smile.' He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and then began to scroll through the photos. I knew which one he was looking for… and I bit back a chuckle when I knew he wouldn't find it because I had already erased it when he was sleeping.

"Yeah… I'll show you. Andi. She's a journalist, war correspondent for the AP."

He kept scrolling… couldn't find it… and then his brow furrowed, he shrugged. "Damn… I must of deleted it somewhere… the photo I had of her isn't here."

"Ho-how did you meet?" I stuttered, trying to bite back my laughter. The fact that Booth was telling me he had met and had started a relationship with another woman that was, in fact, me, was just extremely humorous to me.

"Oh, I arrested her for being in a restricted area."

"Where's Andi now?" I asked, curiosity feigned.

"She's on assignment in New York at the AP head offices… but she lives in DC."

"Well… is it serious between you two?" This was a trick question… one I was interested to hear the answer to….

"Serious as a heart attack."

"Heart attacks are very serious." I acknowledged.

"Yes they are, very serious."

And, then, that's when I knew it. I was in even bigger trouble than I thought. Booth was in love with Andi. And Andi was a lie. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	16. Ch15:Enough Pentup Sexual Energy

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 15 – "Enough Pent-up Sexual Energy"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "She has enough pent-up sexual energy to power a small Midwestern city."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

It was very strange being back… having everyone being back. It was weird, very weird having the lights in Angela's office brightly blazing… seeing Hodgins head bent over the microscope at his station before his red hair would going quickly zooming to somewhere else in the lab… and Booth. With Booth it was very strange. Things had changed while he was gone… and if there was one thing Booth didn't like, it turned out to be changes made without his knowledge or approval. And, then, most annoyingly… there was Sweets. He was back… and watching everything. And everyone… and I feared, very much feared, that somehow if anyone could figure out what had happened, what I'd done, it would be our baby duckling. And, so, I kept myself fairly attached (in a proverbial way) to the platform and the bone room. I even avoided my office. Until, one day, I was ambushed by the two people I hadn't really expected to partially crack me as we went into week 2 of the Logan Bartlett.

"Sweetie, can we speak to you for a sec?" Angela's voice came.

I looked up, and saw Payton and Angela, standing very close to each other. Payton was in casual attire, but that stood to reason, since Sully had ended up tolerating Booth's recent fickleness much better than she. He was partnering Booth in the field during the AM and so Payton had resigned herself to filling in during the PM hours at night with me… or, the time when I spent most of my active moments in the lab. I looked up with a frown. Shit. This was not going to be good.

I sighed and was about to ask if it was really necessary when Payton interjected, "We can do this here, now, while the boys are out… or later, in the middle of the case debriefing... with Sweets... whichever you prefer, Tempe."

At her words, Angela had a slightly surprised look on her face, but one that slowly turned to impressed respect as she slightly nodded her head in agreement.

My frown deepened, before I nodded, and said, "Fine, but I am not going to the Founding Fathers or the diner… not if we're going to run the chance of running into the boys."

Angela's eyebrows raised at my use of Payton's term. She had been doing that a lot over the last week. Yet another thing I was going to need to explain.

I gestured them in and rose from the desk. I went to the couch and sat down. Payton shut the door behind her and nodded at me as I heard the lock click. Whatever it was they wanted to discuss, and I had a fairly good idea what is was, wouldn't be interrupted.

I had spent a lot of the plane ride back from Afghanistan figuring out how to explain things. I knew I would be doing a lot of explaining in the coming weeks… months even… and figuring out how to explain the small things had seemed to be a good place to start.

And, so, with Payton there, in an ironic twist, as moral support… I confessed to Angela what had happened since I last saw her at Reagan National Airport. I left out the part about the hallucination of my mother… and I downplayed the impetus that Booth's final look and touch had given me. But, I think Angela, at least, knew anyway. I did confess coming back to the Jeffersonian, my fears about losing our team, Payton confirming the disarray that my and Booth's original departures had wracked from the Bureau's perspective on the Jeffersonian/FBI relationship. I also confessed to seeing Parker, taking care of him on a regular basis, and finally… admitting that I hadn't come back from Maluku a couple of weeks ago as everyone thought… but that I had actually gone to a Macedonian dig site. I didn't dare mention Alexandria on the Caucus, because Angela, as an artist, would immediately know that Alexandria on the Caucus was code for Persian Empire and again code for Afghanistan.

When I was done, I looked up at Angela and said, "I'm sorry, Ange."

She was quiet for a moment, and said, "I wish you could have trusted me enough to at least tell me what was going on… I would have stayed away if that was what you really wanted."

I cracked an eyebrow at her and said, "Would you have really done that?"

Angela pursed her lips together for a moment and then said, "Well, yeah… for a while… because it was Paris… but…"

"Only for a while?"

She sighed. "You're my best friend, Bren. I… would just wanted to have helped... and made sure you didn't do anything stupid."

I bit my tongue to avoid wincing at those words.

"Trust me," I said, finally. "You helped more than you can ever know by letting me figure out what I needed to figure out here instead of in the jungles of Indonesia."

"In a Daisy-Wick-less environment no less," Angela chuckled.

"I know I lied," I said, suddenly serious, despite having smiled at Angela's earlier point. "And, I'm sorry. Just please tell me you aren't too angry at me."

"I'm not angry," Angela said. "A bit hurt? Yeah. Disappointed, definitely. But, I'm not angry."

At this, Payton said, "How did Booth take it when you had this talk with him, Tempe? Tim said that he's been a bitch to be around in the Hoover during staff meetings, which, by the way, thank you for getting me out of with this new nifty PM-AM schedule."

I nodded... but this time, I couldn't help wincing as I said softly, "I haven't exactly told him yet."

"So he's just been finding out about these little changes you made on his own… with no explanation?" Angela asked.

I nodded slowly. "Yes?"

At this, both women winced. Payton was the first to speak after a long silence. "Well, that explains why he's been so bitchy."

Angela nodded. She then looked at me and said, "Honey, I know that Booth has a girlfriend now, and I promise I'll kick his ass for you about that as soon as this case is done, but it sounds like you've given just as good as you've gotten with him on the news-bombshell front."

I sighed. "I know… I know I need to talk to him. There just— there just hasn't been a lot of time."

"Well, my advice, Bren… this is the type of thing you make time for," Angela said.

Payton nodded in agreement.

And, the sad thing was that as right as they were, they only knew the half of it. What they didn't know was despite Booth's 'bitchiness' – to use Payton's words – why he hadn't cornered me in the first place to demand explanations. I did know why he was currently holding at aggressively hostile to me… or bitchy… and not escalating the situation. There were two reasons actually. Okay, three. First, he was happy to be back. Parker was a large part of that. Two, he wanted to focus on finding out what in the hell was the way to solve the Logan Bartlett case before alienating me and the squints in a way that might come about as the result of any falling out between he and I. Third… he was distracted… by his girlfriend.

Heh.

Yeah… Andi hadn't made an appearance in DC yet. She was, conveniently, still in New York. That didn't mean that Booth wasn't in contact with her. As a matter a fact… the contact was probably the one thing that was having any positive effect on him.

I'm not sure, but it all started with a text message to the cell phone number I had emailed him a couple of days after I arrived in DC. It was more of a test text message I think. From there, we chatted on the phone every other day… usually before Booth thought I was going to sleep (in reality it was usually when I was in the bone room on a break since I was working shifts from 3pm to 3am in order to avoid him).

As the days wore on, and the Bartlett case started to reach a culmination… and the gap that existed widened between Booth and Brennan… the texts and phone messages took on a decidedly different turn.

It started with a text… a simple text… and Booth was never near me when it was sent… but somehow he *always* managed to time it so that I was in the middle of a bone study or x-ray analysis when it happened.

The first text said:

_I really miss you_.

I responded:

_I miss you too._

Sometime later… another one came…

_It's really lonely at night without you_.

Fuck… that is so not fair. Guilt… extreme guilt washed over me as he ferreted an honest-to-God emotional response out of me.

_I miss waking up in your arms_.

And then, a couple of days later… the texts had gone from emotional to salacious. It started out with me sending an honest response to a comment he had made on the previous night's phone call.

_Did you ever try that dry cleaner I recommended?_

It was a new dry cleaner that Jared had actually tipped me off to when I was staying at Booth's for Parker's weekends. It was better in service and cheaper than the normal one that either Booth or I used.

His response came cheekily:

_Is this your way of asking me what I'm wearing_?

I was game… he wanted to tease… sure.

_Yes, it is my way of asking if you have taken every piece of clothing you own to the dry cleaner I recommended so you have nothing to wear_.

It took a second, but his response was brazen.

_So, you *are* asking me what I'm wearing?_

Not to be outdone, I hastily tapped back:

_No, I'm really asking if you're naked_.

Ha! Let's see him deal with that. Glancing at the clock, I knew he was home. He wouldn't be at the Hoover this late. But, as ever, I was still stuck at the Jeffersonian.

_And if I said I was?_

Not fair… so not fair….

And things degenerated from there. I can honestly say I've never really been one for sexting. But, when said dirty texts shifted to a phone call at my insistence… I can say, that phone sex isn't all that unsatisfying. Truth to be told, I would have preferred if it had happened elsewhere than my office at the Jeffersonian. But, beggars can't be choosers.

Some time later, after we had said our good nights, I received another text.

_When are you going to be able to come home_?

In my post orgasmic haze, I somewhat happily typed a response:

_Sooner than you think_.

His response came quickly:

_Oh?_

Nodding, I decided then and there that this was it. It was time to tell Booth. The Bartlett case was as good as solved, and indeed, the next day we would find the little boy at a playground and shortly thereafter reunite him with his mother after Booth arrested his father. I would meet him as Andi and confess all. So I typed:

_One night, very soon, there will be a knock on your door. You better be ready for me._

I laughed at the response.

_Promises, promises_.

But, I would make good on my promise the next day. April 15th… Tax day.

* * *

><p>Brennan's ability to compartmentalize helped her stay focus on wrapping up the Bartlett case. She knew that Brennan still needed to talk to Booth, but as long as he wasn't pressing the issue, she wouldn't. She needed to take care of the issue of Andi first.<p>

And, so, it was for the first time in several weeks, she bathed using Andi's cosmetics, styled Andi's hair, popped in the brown contacts, dressed in Andi's clothing, and made her way to Booth's apartment at 11pm at night.

She knocked on the door, a bit hesitant. But, when the door swung open, and she saw Booth standing there in the remnants of his work outfit… suit jacket and tie gone, white button down shirt opened several buttons at the collar, sleeves rolled up… logical thoughts and plans went out the window.

He smiled that smile when he saw it was her.

"Hi," he breathed.

"Hey," Brennan responded.

He reached out a hand to her, and Brennan entered the apartment door. And, then, as soon as the door was shut and locked… she suddenly found herself thrown up against it and Booth's lips were on her face.

* * *

><p>Okay, I didn't expect that to happen. In the course of beginning a sexual relationship with Booth, we've had sex several times in what might be considered a frenzied pace. But, to borrow one of Booth's euphemisms… Jesus Christ. I don't know what in the hell happened… but one minute I was staring at him with a smile of greeting on my face… and the next minute, he had me slammed up against a door, one hand already groping my breasts under my blouse and the other hand going to unbutton my jeans.<p>

It had only been a few weeks since we'd been together… but, God, I was starved for him. He tasted… God, I needed to taste him. And, apparently, he was even more in need than I.

My greeting to him had quickly turned into one of the hottest fucks I've ever had… pressed up against his apartment's door. Later, I would think that I wouldn't ever be able to look at his entryway again without blushing. But, it felt good… so good. And I wanted him. I did.

So, that was how Andi ended up saying hello to Booth. Somehow, after that, we ended up staggering back to the bedroom. It was strange, so strange for a moment to be pushed onto the bed… his bed, by him. But, it quickly passed when I felt the weight of his body on mine.

Felt. So. Good.

Later, I drifted off to sleep, thinking this was definitely not how I planned things turning out.

In the morning, the sunlight drifted through Booth's crappy blinds…but my normal annoyance at his window's placement in the AM was swiftly replaced when I felt a subtle shift and then sweet kisses being trailed down my throat. I opened my eyes and saw a very awake Booth doing something he had never done even in Afghanistan… wake me up for the day with adorable bed-head… morning breath… and eyes deeply clouded with desire. I never thought I would be a fan of morning sex… but Booth, as in so many other cases, proved me wrong.

Sometime after, his cell phone began to ring. It actually rang the first time when we were in the shower. He, thankfully, ignored it for the three minutes we needed to finish what I sort of had goaded him into starting.

I was toweling off while he looked at the phone, saw who had called, and rang back. It was Sully. Another case, by the sounds of it.

_Fuck_. Not already. We just finished the Bartlett case.

Booth finished talking to Sully and came around to kiss me. He nodded and said, "Work, I've got to go. But, can I see you tonight?"

Unsure, because the case would be dictating my social availability just as much as his, I said, "Call me when you're done. We'll see where we are."

He smiled, kissed me again, and then finished getting dressed. I wasn't that far behind him. Getting back to my apartment and changed to head back to the Jeffersonian would be a challenge, but I would do what I need to do.

My idea to visit Booth as Andi hadn't gone over exactly as I planned. But, I would think of some way to tell him the truth. And, then, we would see where the two of us stood.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	17. Ch16:Right Beside You

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 16 – "Right Beside You"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "I'm standing right beside you, Booth, like always. Like I always will."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

The situation with Booth did not play out like I had intended it to… and to be honest… it *continued* to not play out as I had intended it to… two more weeks passed by in a blur. By sheer luck, it turned out the case Sully had been calling Booth about required a brief consultation… and I was able to determine that the bones they uncovered were actually historic in nature… 150 years old, give or take… my best estimates put the body as a Civil War deserter who had died in the national park where he was found. One of the archaeologists from the University of Maryland – College Park would have a new project to work on… and, normally, I would have been sad at losing the chance to study the fascinating find. But, I had other things to consider. No case meant minimized contact between Booth and Brennan. Less time needed in the lab for Brennan meant Andi had more free time to spend with Booth after hours.

I am not going to lie… after about three days, we both came up for air where the sex was concerned. He wanted to take me out on a date, so we went to dinner and a movie. Towards the end of the first week, he started hinting that he wanted to see where I lived. I made excuses, he didn't push. By the middle of the second week, he mentioned that he was supposed to have Parker for his first weekend sleepover since he had been back. I think he wanted to feel Andi out to see if she would want to meet him. Not because I didn't want to spend time with Parker, but because I needed to have the discussion with Booth first, I stalled.

He was disappointed I think, but didn't push again. The case and other post-army discharge work had kept him from taking Parker more than a night here or there. I am not going to lie and say that my own time with Parker had been cut back. Booth had been… well, pleased but not pleased to know that Parker had resumed his after school enrichment programs at the Jeffersonian in his absence. He was happy because Parker was happy, not happy when he found out the role I had played. I still saw Parker when Booth resumed picking him up and dropping him off for the lessons… and truth to be told, sometimes we spent the two hour blocks, not with the other children, but in my office doing things one-on-one. But, for now, it worked.

It was Thursday evening, and Booth had just picked up Parker. Somewhat ironically, we were supposed to be meeting (Andi and Booth that is) for dinner later that night once Booth had dropped Parker off. I was distracted, going through some final edits on the last article that would be running as Andi's copy for the AP that I needed to get back to John to make the deadline. While working in that account, I noticed an email from Hannah. Curious, I read it and saw that she wanted to get together for drinks next week. She, apparently, had decided to accept a job in DC with the Washington Press Corps and wanted to catch up. The murmurings were that our series on the Taliban drug lord might have a shot at a fairly prestigious award whose nominations would be announced soon. She wanted to chat about that… and somewhat vaguely… 'other things'. I wrote back a quick reply telling her to email me when she got to DC, and we would grab dinner.

Still distracted, I was annoyed when I grabbed my phone and saw a text from Booth. It read simply:

_How are you doing?_

I grumbled… he still wanted the final copy of the modified version of the North Korean little boy's case file. I had been dragging my feet on it for a few days now, mainly because I didn't want to see him as Brennan. Realizing that he probably merely wanted things squared away before the weekend, I typed a response without really thinking:

_Same as the last time I told you – fine. I'll get the North Korean boy's final autopsy report to you as soon as I finish cross-referencing the Bartlett case._

I hit send, and didn't think twice when I resumed my work for John's edits. A little while later, I glanced at the clock and realized I would need to leave now to get home, showered, changed, and to Booth's for dinner.

As soon as I arrived home… I knew something was wrong. I had shut and locked the door behind me, and dropped my laptop bag and purse and keys on the dining room table. And, then I felt it… Not by sight or smell or touch… but there was something that made the small hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight. Turning to the sitting area, I saw Booth on the couch. His face radiated anger… and hurt… and something else. His voice was very quiet as he lifted his cell phone… I could see the text message screen was visible… and then I knew… in my haste… I hadn't checked to see if Booth had texted Brennan or Andi….

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Gesturing at the phone, Booth nodded at me. "We need to talk."

I sighed. Swallowed once. And nodded.

"Give me a second? I need to use the bathroom."

He nodded.

I went in and took a moment. Yanking off the wig, I unpinned my hair. I used the facilities… splashed some water on my face, and took a breath.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

* * *

><p>Booth gave Brennan a look of mild surprise when he saw her hair falling in straightened dark waves down her back. He then pointed at her and said, "Hair dye… colored contacts… new clothes… I still should have seen it."<p>

Brennan went and sat down on the couch. She sat as far away from Booth as possible. She then repeated what Seth had told her… "There was no logical reason for you to think I would be in Afghanistan. You saw what you wanted to see."

"Yeah," Booth said quietly. "I did."

Looking up at him, Brennan couldn't stand the silence. She finally said, in a small voice, "There is so much I need to say to you."

"And there's a lot I need to hear," Booth said. "But, why don't we start with the simple stuff. Why?"

Brennan swallowed. "Why what? There's a lot of 'why's' that I owe you an answer to Booth. Why did I never go to Maluku? Why did I not tell you and Angela and Hodgins? Why did I still work cases in DC while you were deployed? Why did I spend time with Parker? Why did I become Andi Anderson? Why did I go to Afghanistan? Why did I have sex with you under a fig tree? Why did I keep having sex with you? Why didn't I tell you the truth when I showed up at your apartment that night when you thought Andi had finally come to DC? Which one do you want me to start with?"

Booth was quiet for a moment and said, "Why did you lie to me?"

"I…" Brennan grappled for the words.

She wrestled with how to make sense of her explanations and was about to speak again when Booth said quietly, "Why did you tell me I was special to you… that you wanted to see where this thing could go between us?"

Brennan's head snapped up at those words, clearly surprised at his question. "I didn't lie about that."

At this, for the first time, anger cracked through Booth's carefully controlled demeanor as he said, "Yes, yes you did! You told me that in Afghanistan the night before you left. But, since we both know the truth of it, since Temperance Brennan doesn't do monogamous long-term relationships... what I want to know is why did you lie to me?"

"Because I didn't," Brennan said. "I may not have told you my true name… some of the picky details… but everything I said to you… when we were together, when we were making love, I never lied then, Booth."

"Don't," Booth said with a wave of his hand. "Please don't."

"What?"

"We fucked, Bones, that's all it was at the base. Sex… just sex," Booth said. "Don't—" He struggled with the words… "You know what the distinction means to me. Please don't demean it."

"I'm not!" Brennan said. "It wasn't just sex to me."

Booth sighed. "So says the woman who doesn't believe in love."

Brennan winced at those words. "I deserved that," she said quietly.

"And more," Booth said truthfully.

Standing, Brennan began to pace in front of the couch. "Listen, Booth, I…." Brennan paused for a moment before she sighed turned to look at him. She sat down, on the edge of the couch, and although she didn't touch him, she turned so she was looking straight into his eyes.

"Okay, here's the truth… from the start," Brennan said.

"That would be a nice change of pace," Booth said.

Brennan nodded. "I love you."

Booth's mouth dropped open and shock was clearly evident on his face. It looked like he was about to say something, but Brennan waved him off.

"Please, let me finish this, or I don't think I ever will," Brennan said. She took a breath and plowed on. "I love you… I do. I have for a while… I don't know when it started exactly… I've never been in love before… I don't know what love is… except… well, what I feel for you, calling it love… it feels right. And it's taken me a lot of time to come to make my peace with that… because by admitting that I love you… that means… that means it's out there. I can't control it… I can't control you… I can't control how I feel… or what those feelings spur me to do. And I hate that feeling, I absolutely fucking hate that goddamn feeling of not being in control and the idea of needing another human being... having to voluntarily rely on someone else... it terrifies me." Brennan stopped for a moment. She looked away, but then turned back to Booth.

"The night at the Hoover… you have no idea what I was confronting… on so many levels when you said what you said… when you asked what you asked of me… I wasn't ready… not to be with you... that- to be with you, if that's all it was, I could have done that… but to deal with what *being* with you would mean I would have had to accept as a person. That's what I was really fighting against when I said I couldn't change. I meant I didn't know how to accept not being in control of something. You know me, Booth. I'm a fighter… I fight everything when it isn't what I thought it would be. The real reason I like being logical and rational… things that are logical and rational are easily controlled… you know what to expect… emotions… like love… they defy that pattern… defy it blatantly… and it really pisses me off. But, I was dealing. Or trying to deal."

Brennan stopped. She took another breath... forced herself to breath, actually... and began again. "I thought running away as far from you as I could physically get would make the acceptance process easier. I didn't realize until I said goodbye to you in that airport, and I saw that look you gave me, that no matter where I went that the emotions… the struggle… it was going to go with me everywhere I went. So, I stopped. I only made it as far as Atlanta that day before I turned around, came home, and did what I needed to do to fix things in my life that were on the verge of being wrecked by neither one of us being here. The Jeffersonian… Parker… all of it."

She sighed. And then she nodded at him. "I wanted to tell you this… all of it… and tried to figure out a way to begin telling you. That's why I sent that email… and why I was so pissed off when you brushed it off. And then, I started to think in my post-hangover daze… that if I told you I loved you, wanted to be with you, would you even believe it after everything that had happened?"

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Booth interrupted. "I told you... that night... just... we could have... why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because I was afraid you were too busy trying to 'move on'... I was afraid I would tell you and then you'd tell me 'That's great, Bones... but I'm with someone and you're too late.' I didn't want to be told that over the fucking phone, Booth."

"Why would you think I would tell you that?"

A flash of her hallucination's words came back to her. A rainy night... Booth's SUV... consolation prizes.

"Because..." she said. "Because... I knew... I just knew that if you met Hannah... it wouldn't have mattered what I told you... I wouldn't have stood a chance... and so... I couldn't just tell you."

"That makes no sense, Bones... none whatsoever."

"Well, it did at the time!" she shot back. "I had to see... I had to see if I was right... if you were moving on-"

"Something I only was trying to do because you told me you didn't want to be with me!"

"I know!" she shouted.

"This is just so fucked up," Booth said. "So fucked up."

"Listen," Brennan said... "It... I... I'll be the first to admit it may not have been the most logical choice... I'm not exactly thinking at my most rational these days... but... I had to take a chance to find out if I wasn't too late."

"You were testing me?" Booth said, some disgust creeping into his voice. "Just like Sweets, Bones..."

"No!" she said suddenly. "I would never..."

"Love is not an experiment, Bones... and us... me... neither... neither am I. I am not an experiment," Booth muttered.

"I know that!" Brennan said, a hint of desperation coming into her voice. "I know that... I just- I... I went to Afghanistan to be near you… and, honestly, I hoped Andi's disguise would buy me a day or two with you. I never thought that you would spend seven weeks with me and not see me for who I really was. Things happened so fast… and it felt so good to finally be with you… I was selfish and didn't want to lose it."

Her voice trailed off, and then Booth finally spoke. He opened his mouth and said, "I think… maybe… deep down… way deep down, there was a part of me that might have guessed. When I was with Andi… I got this feeling that I only had when I was with you… and I thought… no, there is no logical reason for Andi to be anyone but who she says she is." At this, Brennan began to wince as she noticed Booth's eyes were watering as he continued to speak, "But then there was a part of me that said, '_Hey, idiot… here she is… that woman that you've been waiting for all your life… that 30, 40, 50 year woman that can love you and be with you and never leave you.'_ And I started to hope. I started to think… _what if Bones isn't the only woman I can feel this way about_? And I was happy… so happy… and so relieved… and so hopeful of that possibility."

Booth bit his lip, swallowed, and suddenly anger flared again through his cracked emotional facade. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me, Bones? Do you have any fucking concept of what you've done?"

He shook his head… "The lies… the lies in themselves are easy to forgive when you love someone... eventually... it's right... like you said, you made a really dumb mistake for being such a smart person, Bones… but what you've stolen from me…" Booth stood at this point and suddenly began to pace. "I am so angry at you. So fucking angry."

Going from anger to disbelief to sadness and back again every sixty seconds, Booth looked at her with a suddenly heartfelt appeal. "Why didn't you have faith in me, Bones? After every thing we've ever been through, I thought, at least you trust me?"

"I do... this isn't about trust," Brennan said.

"Like hell it isn't!" Booth said. "You did this your way because you wanted to stay in control."

"No, I-"

"Yes, you wanted to stay in control and did whatever you had to do to make that happen... including, it appears, having shown once and for all, that you don't really believe in me like you've always said you do."

"Don't do that," Brennan pleaded. "Please don't doubt-"

"Why shouldn't I?" Booth countered. "Why shouldn't I think that every single thing you've ever told me is a lie?"

"Because," Brennan said. "It wasn't. And that's the truth."

"You wouldn't know the truth if it bit you on the ass, Bones," Booth said, anger taking hold once again.

At this flippant comment, Brennan's anger flared a bit as she said, "I screwed up, Booth. I admit that. But if we're going to be honest here, then let's be honest. Yes, you have a right to feel hurt and betrayed that I lied to you-"

"Gee, thanks for the permission."

"-But, we both know that some of this anger of yours is coming from the simple fact that I made decisions about us over which you didn't have any control. And that drives you fucking crazy, doesn't it?"

"Don't make this about me," Booth yelled. "This is about you and this fucking bull shit that you've been feeding me for months."

Brennan bit back a retort when she suddenly saw Booth shift again, the anger rolling back into hurt and betrayal.

Booth stopped and pointed a finger at her. "Let's put aside the fact that now I know the future I was dreaming about with Andi is a complete sham. Let's set aside the fact that I now definitively know there is no fucking future for me free from this emotional romantic limbo you've got me stuck in… I am damned forever to love Temperance Brennan… and there's nothing I can do to escape that tragedy…."

He sighed and then said, a touch of the anger gone. "Why didn't you just tell me? I could have… I don't know… I would have found a way to make it work. If you had just told me." He shook his head again. At this point, Brennan felt the knife that was in her gut twist a little more as she saw his eyes were watering once again. "You know what the saddest thing is, Bones?"

She shook her head and mouthed almost wordlessly, "No."

"The saddest thing… the thing that hurts me most I think… is that you took away from me the one dream I've sustained myself on for seven years."

His lips twisted in a grimace. Booth then continued. "Do you know how many times I've dreamed of making love to you? What would happen… what it would feel like… where and when, under what conditions? I've thought of it a thousand different ways… but I never, ever, in a million years would have guessed that you'd be the one to steal my dream from me."

Brennan felt a small sob escape her throat at those words. Whatever she had anticipated, it wasn't this.

Running his hand through his hair, Booth sniffled slightly. He then turned and looked at her. "Look… I meant what I said that day at the Hoover. You wanted to work together, we'll still work together as partners… but, I can't… I can't give you more than that. I… now that I know I'm never gonna get the chance to move on from you… now that I know I'm damned… I… I'm going to need some time to make peace with this. All this. Find some fucking way to learn to live with it... with all of this..." he repeated as he gestured between them.

Brennan said softly, "But I love you."

Booth nodded, his throat suddenly becoming thick with emotion again as he said, "I know you think you do, Bones… but here's the thing. Love, real love? It can't exist without trust."

Brennan whimpered at his statement. He looked pointedly at her and added, "And I don't trust you, Bones… not now, I don't, I just don't. I don't trust you… and I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust you ever again." He turned to leave, and at this, Brennan panicked. She reached out and grabbed his hand. Booth looked down at her grasp and anger flared in his eyes.

"Bones, let go of my hand," Booth warned ominously.

"But you won't leave me?" Brennan pressed. "I can't let you leave, Booth. If you need time, I'll do whatever you want… give you whatever time you need, but I can't lose you."

"You don't get it, do you, Bones? I'm not yours not to lose anymore. I don't think I ever really was," Booth said. There was some vitriol in his voice, and Brennan winced. "It's not your call to make. *You* can't control *me*," he said.

Brennan dropped his hand. He nodded and said, "And no, I keep... I'll keep my word. I will. Because I promised. Only because I made a fucking promise... and when I do- Partners… somehow, some fucking way, I'll do what I promised you, and we'll make it work for the partnership. Because, unlike you, I don't lie. I'm a man of my word. See, that's something important, Bones. Real important. The truth. So, no, I won't be running to ask for a transfer, reenlisting in the Rangers, or fuck knows what else you think I might do."

Brennan said, "But you still want to forget about me?"

Booth nodded, "Any damn time I can, Bones. It's about the only thing I have left that I can make the choice to do. Outside of the fact of what the partnership entails, yeah, I want to forget."

He turned on his heels and walked passed her. He opened the door, slammed it shut, and was gone.

* * *

><p>I knew it would hurt. But, fuck… I didn't know how much. And I didn't anticipate this… I knew he would be angry. That's only natural. Booth… he doesn't deal well with betrayal… and this… add loss of control to the emotional betrayal… and that's just about the worse thing that can happen.<p>

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I… I don't know how to fix this. I know I need to… I know I want to… but… how do I fix this? How?

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	18. Ch17:Can Adjust

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 17 – "Can Adjust"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "I understand. I missed my chance. My whole world turned upside down. I can adjust."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

If there is one thing that I knew about Booth after our talk that I thought I had known but didn't really, it was how stubborn he can be when he sets his mind to it. He… he had made some valid points… things I hadn't even considered when I did what I did… I… I never thought about stealing a dream from him.

But… he… he is so… such… so male!

I mean, come on… logically, I can understand… in the aftermath of being confronted with truths like that… it's a lot to take in… I knew he would be angry. Like I said, I know Booth likes it almost as much as me when the control is taken away from him… especially about things he really cares about.

So, I figured time… I would give him time… and that would be that.

True to his word… he… he was wonderful when it came to work. Professional… courteous… even still called me Bones. But… there was something in his eyes each time he said it. Something like…

_Do you see how much I love you that I am putting myself through this bullshit because I made a fucking promise to you, and I am going to do whatever I have to do to keep it?_

I saw… and it made me love him even more.

Yeah, I thought a lot about what Booth had said that night before he stormed out. He was right... about a lot of stuff I had done. I shouldn't have lied to him... I... I should have had more faith in him than I did. I should have trusted him. But, he was wrong about one very crucial point. He was wrong when he said it wasn't right to describe what I feel for him as love. I... whatever this is that I feel for him... I know when I use the word 'love' to describe it... it's the right thing to do. I think, if someone were to ask me to explain what my evidence is for this assumption... the best thing I could say... love... love is something that you feel for someone in appreciation... when you realize that that person has done something for you... at great personal cost to themselves... and they do it without expectation of anything in return.

Yes, Booth had made me a promise that he wouldn't leave... that we would make the partnership continue to work. But, he did all these other little things that he didn't have to... he... he didn't try to distance himself from me at a crime scene or the lab... he still asked for and considered my opinion on work related topics just as he always had... he even went so far as to do everything he possibly could do to make certain the squinterns had no idea that there was something amiss between us... and, well, he didn't have to do those things. I knew... I knew it was killing him to do it, and, yet, he did it anyway.

And that is why I know that he loves me still... and I love him. And I don't know that I'll ever stop loving him. That left me with only one option. I had to wait. I had to wait for him to stop being angry and let me prove to him that he *could* still trust me. That's how I could show him that I *did* love him. Hopefully, if I gave him time... maybe, then, he might be able to not be so angry at being in love with me anymore. Trust and love... love and trust... somehow, someway, we would get back to that wonderful balance we had. I wasn't just quite sure how...

And, so, days turned into a week… a week turned into two… and two into four… I… I wanted to give him space… wanted him to know that the decision as to how things would go would be his... and so I didn't push him. I kept my distance. I stayed away. Very quickly… it had been the first week in May when we had our 'discussion'… time passed with the cases… and the heat of May gave way to the humidity of June.

I spent a lot of time with Payton and Angela. Angela's pregnancy had given me something to be distracted by… and, I realized how much I missed Parker.

I had put Rebecca into an very awkward spot... about a week after the discussion with Booth... I got a call from Rebecca. She was crying... literally, sobbing on the phone. At first, I got scared, and thought something had happened to Booth's son... but, no, Parker was with Booth... and Rebecca asked if we could meet for coffee? That discussion was one of the most difficult I've ever had in my life. Parker wanted to see me… Booth wouldn't tell his son no… but he didn't want me near either him or Parker. He didn't trust me, and if he didn't trust me with himself… he certainly wouldn't trust me with his son. And, he had told Rebecca this in no uncertain terms.

* * *

><p>"... and the final thing he said was... after all that... after he had said all *that*... he ended it with... 'Fix it', he told me, Tempe... he just turned to me after our argument and said 'Fix it with Parker'," Rebecca said. "I... it was a good thing that Parker was already down in the SUV because... after what Booth said... I've... he's never, ever been so hurtful, so angry with me... and I just don't know what to do. I mean, Seeley is putting on a good front for Parker, but I'm not sure if he remembers that this isn't just about what he wants for whatever damn reasons he wants it. The thing is... I'm afraid if I pull Parker from the classes at the Jeffersonian, his grades will tank again like they did last September. I tried to explain to Seeley... tried to get him to see reason... but the one time I mentioned your name... well, let's just say I never want to see again in my life the look Seeley gave me. It was so cold... so remote... so dangerous. I... I've never seen him like that before. And when he was gone... I started to cry... and I just couldn't stop for some reason until you got here."<p>

I sighed. "I don't know what to say, Rebecca. Except that I'm sorry. So sorry... and I don't want to drag you into things more than you already are... but, if Booth doesn't want me to see Parker... I need to respect his wishes on this. I made the mistake of thinking I knew what was best for him before... and... I won't do that again."

At this, Rebecca straightened up and said, "Listen... Seeley is Parker's father... but *I* am his mother. I have just as much say as who is in my son's life as Seeley does. I know something happened between the two of you; he wouldn't have said what he did if he weren't hurt and angry and uncertain what to do next. It's the not being able to do anything that's probably exacerbating things... that's why he's lashing out where he can... and I'm sure you'll both work this thing out eventually... but until you do, for Parker's sake, we need to come to some type of compromise."

"I don't know if Booth will compromise on this one... because I'm involved," Brennan said softly.

"Yeah, well," Rebecca said, "he doesn't really have a choice in the matter."

Brennan frowned. "I think that's what has been part of the problem."

Rebecca shrugged. "Seeley likes to control things... always has. That's why it was probably a good thing our relationship had fizzled before Parker was born... he... I... well, in the beginning the reason I had to come down as hard on him as I did about Parker was because he was trying to control too much. There wasn't any room for compromise. The past few years... honestly, since you've been in the picture, Tempe... he's gotten a lot better... but, he's reverting right now. And, I think I need to remind him of that."

"Please," Brennan said, reaching out a hand to place it gently on Rebecca's. "Please don't do anything that will take time away from Parker being with Booth. Please, Rebecca... please?"

"I won't use his son against him, if that's what you mean," Rebecca said cautiously. "But, he's got to come to his senses about this. We've got to work *something* out."

Brennan nodded. "You will... I know you will. We all love Parker and want what's best for him. You both will figure out something if for no other reason than that... and once you do... whatever I can do... just let me know... as long as Booth knows what I'll be doing and is okay with it."

Rebecca nodded herself. As she stood to go, she uncharacteristically reached over and drew Brennan into a hug. She then whispered in her ear, "Whatever happened, he wouldn't have said those things to me... at least the part about you unless... well, he wouldn't be this angry with you unless he loved you very, very much, Temperance."

"I know," Brennan said with a sad smiled. "I just don't think Booth knows how to handle that fact. And that's the problem, really."

* * *

><p>The next week, Rebecca and Booth had a long talk. I'm still uncertain as to how much he ever told her... but, when it was done, he apologized for what he had said to Rebecca (not the part about me, though, she later told me), and they reached a compromise as Rebecca had anticipated. I would continue to see Parker on Tuesdays and Thursdays during his enrichment lessons at the Jeffersonian. Rebecca would drop him off and pick him up... Booth switched to taking his soccer practices on Mondays and Wednesdays. I saw Parker for most of the allotted time of the lessons on Tuesday and Thursdays. We usually just stayed on the couch in my office. I think Booth may have known… but didn't say anything about it. Yet another reason to love the man.<p>

The talk with Parker on that first Tuesday after Rebecca and Booth had reached a compromise was one of the most difficult conversations I've ever had in my entire life. Explaining to a set of parents that their pregnant daughter's been murdered? Testify before Congress on the findings of mass grave that resulted from secret executions in Argentina during the Dirty War? Talk to my father about his abandonment of me at 15? I've done all those things and had all conversations... and I would still rather do them over again than having to have the conversation with Parker that I did just one time. It was that bad.

* * *

><p>"Bones?"<p>

"Yes, Parker?"

"What happened... between you and Dad?"

"I... I did something... something horrible, Parker. To your dad."

"Did you hurt him?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn't thinking straight."

"But, Bones... you never do that. You are the smartest thinker I know."

"I'm not so smart, Parker."

"Yes, you are. So... you must of made some kind of mistake... was that it, Bones? Did you hurt Dad by mistake?"

"Yes..."

"Then, did you say you were sorry, Bones? You told him you were sorry, right?"

"Yes, Parker... I did. Many times-"

"Then why is he still mad, Bones? When I say I'm sorry... he eventually pulls me into a big hug and says everything's going to be okay... and that even if he's upset with me right now that he still loves me."

"I... he just is, Parker. He just is."

"Did you cry when it happened?"

"Yes."

"And he still didn't pull you into a hug and tell you that it would be okay?"

"No... no, he didn't. He couldn't, Parker."

"But why not... he still loves you, Bones, right?"

"Yeah, I think so, Parker... but it's really hard for him to be around me right now. I made that big a mistake."

"That's stupid. If he loves you, he should be able to be mad at you and still tell you that things are going to be all right."

"If only that were true, Parker. If only that were true."

* * *

><p>Rebecca's phone call was not the only surprise I received thanks to Booth's recent actions. A few weeks after the major discussion with Booth, a knock had come on my door. It was late when it came... after 9... and for a split second, I hoped against hope that it was Booth who was showing up at my door. When I opened the door, it turned out that I was half right. It *was* a Booth that was on my door step... just not the one I had really wanted to see.<p>

* * *

><p>Jared stood in front of her door. Brennan gasped, opening it, "Jared? What happened?"<p>

"Hey, Tempe," Jared said. "Even though it may not show right now because it would really really hurt to do it, pretend I'm smiling because I'm happy to see you," Jared said. It was the first time since Brennan had given him back Booth's key right after she got back that she had seen him, and even that night, it had only been a brief visit. Jared paused, as Brennan was still standing in front of her doorway and said, "Think I could come in for a minute?"

Nodding, Brennan said, "Oh, sorry... of course, come in."

She stood to the side of the entryway and allowed Jared to enter. She nodded at him and repeated, "What happened?"

Jared nodded at her and said, "Well, that's what I'm kind of here to find out."

Brennan winced. "No, I meant your face."

Jared shrugged... "Oh, well... that's the easy part. My face sorta ran into Seeley's fists a few times."

"Booth did this to you?" Brennan asked. She leaned forward, tilted his head a bit in the light. "Jared, you're bleeding."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I've never been here before... and probably will be again. It's kinda what Seel and I do, you know?" Jared said.

Brennan sighed. She said, "Go sit down on the couch. I'll get some ice... and the first aid kit."

"And maybe some aspirin?"

Brennan nodded. "Sure."

A short time later, Jared was holding a ziplock bag full of ice to his jaw. Brennan was dabbing at his forehead with a cotton ball of peroxide. The bleeding of Jared's bottom lip had finally stopped. He had tried to talk as Brennan tended his wounds, but she waved him off until she was done.

Going to the refrigerator, Brennan pulled out a couple of cans of soda that she normally saved for Booth. Taking one, she opened it and handed it to Jared when she came back to the couch. Nodding his thanks, he began to sip as Brennan, somewhat unusually, did the same.

Sitting down on the couch next to him, Brennan then said, "So, now will you tell me what happened?"

Jared winced and then sighed. He then said, "In what I can only describe as a surreal turn of events, I found Seeley... not drunk exactly, but fairly well on his way there when I showed up to the bar where he and I had agreed to meet to watch the first game of the Phillies/Nationals series. I haven't really had a chance to talk to him much since everyone's been back, so I thought this might be a good way to catch up. When I called him... he hesitated a bit at first, but then agreed. So, we met at the bar and the first two innings were fine... he was quiet... but whatever. We don't really talk during a game anyway. But, during one of the commercials, I asked him if Parker had talked to him about the fishing trip that we had taken with Pops while you guys were gone. I... he knew about it, but didn't know all the details... and, when we started talking about things... he sort of couldn't stop once he started. He had all these questions about the past few months... about Parker... and you... and you and Parker... and then, after about a half hour of going back and forth, he... uhh... he made a comment or two about my ability to reason logically."

Brennan sighed. "What did he really say?"

Jared shrugged. "Something about me having killed off most of my brain cells from the drinking over the years. Said... he'd made a mistake when he asked me to look after his son while he was gone..."

"Oh, Jared," Brennan said. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," Jared said. "I know that over the years Seeley has pulled my sorry ass out of the gutter so many times we've both lost count. I knew something was bothering him... so I didn't make a big deal with the shots he was taking at me... but..."

"What?"

"Then he... well... he might have made a vague reference to me thinking with my dick instead of my brain when it came to explaining why I let myself get manipulated by you."

Brennan gasped.

"Actually... it started with him segueing from the stupidity comment to you outsmarting me to me falling for your manipulations because I still want to... get you into bed. Those weren't the exact words that Seeley used, but you get the point. And, well, that was kind of it. Me? Now, me...he can crack on me all he wants... but Seel started insulting you... and then he made a comment about what kind of woman Padme is since she was willing to overlook things between me and you... and, well, I couldn't really let that stand, Tempe. Long story short, I called him on his bull shit, told him he was being a dick, got up to leave and... well, Seel kind of followed me outside the bar."

Brennan winced. "And?"

"And... whatever the fuck has happened to him in the last few weeks... it's made him so angry... and he wants to fight."

"How bad?"

"Pretty bad... I tried to let him blow off some steam... but... he made a couple digs about me being a squid... you know Seeley's never really liked the fact that I chose the navy over the army... or the fact that I went commission over non-comm. I usually love being able to rub my brother's face in the fact that I outrank him... but-"

"But?"

"But... it was kind of habit... and I really was starting to get pissed off about what he said about you and Padme... and I made one crack about him being a ground-pounder who wouldn't know how to lead the way with a compass, a map, and a personalized GPS system, and he went from the cracks about being a floating bell-hop to really trying to beat the shit out of me... I... like I said, he wanted to fight in a way I haven't seen since we were teenagers, Tempe... and I was just wondering if you might be able to tell me why Seeley and I spent tonight kicking each other's asses?"

Brennan sighed. "I'm not sure I understand most of what you just said, Jared, but I... *did* do something... to Booth."

"So I gathered," Jared said with a wry smile. "And I take it this isn't just because he found out that you did that thing you did with Parker while he was deployed and kept him in the dark about it?"

"No," Brennan said. "Although he has been having a number of disagreements with people because of what they did on my behalf. Cam had to throw him out of the lab a couple of days ago. I mean, it was after hours... and almost everyone had gone home because it happened in the evening... she and I were the only ones that were still there, but even still-"

Jared winced. "He and Cam never fight."

"I know," Brennan said. "Not until me."

"What did you do, Tempe?"

Not certain how much she wanted to tell him, because she was both embarrassed and had yet to tell anyone - even Angela or Payton about the whole truth of the matter - Brennan finally took a deep breath and said, "I think I broke his heart, Jared."

"Yeah, well, you've done that before and you'll probably do it again because that's just what you and Seeley do... but whatever the fuck you did this time, Tempe, well, damn... it's pretty FUBAR."

"I don't know what that means," Brennan said.

"Acronym," Jared offered. "Means 'fucked up beyond all recognition.'"

"Well, then, yeah," Brennan said. "Saying things are FUBAR between me and Booth is a pretty good descriptor, then, actually."

Jared nodded. "He told me he doesn't want me near Parker since he said he can't trust me. I... I don't know what you did, Tempe... but, whatever it is, it's bad."

"Bad enough..." Brennan said tentatively... "You think he'll start gambling again?"

"I don't know," Jared said. "I don't know... what I do know is this... if it were me who was in Seeley's place... feeling that badly? Well, I would have had my ass at a meeting instead of meeting my brother in a bar with pool tables, dart boards, and multiple sporting events that could be wagered on..."

Brennan sighed. "I just don't know what to do, Jared. I... I lied to him... about a lot of things. He... that crack he made at you about trust... that's probably because of me. And... I just don't know how to fix things."

"Tempe-"

"If he starts gambling again, Jared... seven and a half years of work could go right out the window... I don't know what I'll do if I'm the one responsible for that..."

"Seeley's been through bad things before, Tempe. Why do you think that this time is any different?"

Brennan paused... unsure what to say. Booth had later told her... never going into details, but had hinted... that it was after the Gemma Arrington case... after meeting her, that was what gave him the impetus to go to his first GA meeting and stop gambling. Brennan's ego wasn't large enough to think that she was the reason that had encouraged Booth to finally do what he needed to do about his addiction... but, there was a part of her that was scared out of her mind that if by coming into his life she had in anyway contributed to helping him be strong enough to do what he needed to do... the reverse might also be true. At last Brennan said, "I'm just scared, Jared."

At this, Jared looked up at her. "You are, aren't you?" he said at last.

Brennan nodded.

"I haven't seen you look like this since Taffet had Seeley on that ship, Tempe... you don't get scared... what... what's going on that is so bad that it could be the same as fearing his death?" Jared asked.

Brennan sighed. "I... I just am scared, Jared. Can we just leave it at that for now?"

Slowly, Jared nodded. "Yeah, sure, I guess. For now." He paused and then said, "Are you two are still working together? After all this?"

Brennan nodded. "At work... in the field... I mean, he's distant... but, yes, he's been great."

Jared sighed.

Brennan frowned, and then said, "Jared... if you look this bad... how did you leave Booth?"

Cracking a grin, Jared said, "His fists are going to hurt more than anything else except maybe the hangover tomorrow, Tempe. I'm not gonna lie and say that maybe I didn't get a good shot in after he made the comment about you and Padme... but, it was a fair shot. If he hadn't been as fucked up with emotion and the booze as he was, I doubt I could have landed it... but let's just say it's been a long time since I had to lug my mostly unconscious brother up to his apartment and drop his sorry ass unceremoniously in bed. I like that I'll be able to hold this over him later, but for now... let' just say I had forgotten how goddamn heavy he is at almost dead weight."

Brennan nodded. She then placed a tentative hand on Jared's wrist, smiled, and said, "Thank you, Jared."

"Just doing my job as a concerned brother and all... for you both, Tempe," Jared said.

A little while later, the pair chatted a bit more... and then Jared left... Brennan would have liked to say that she slept that night... but, then, that would just be yet another lie that she didn't really want to make given her poor recent track record in that area.

* * *

><p>At the end of June, a couple of weeks after my late night visit from Jared, I was still at a loss of what to do about Booth aside from giving him time and space. I wasn't sleeping much then... and so I wasn't really surprised when I came down with a nasty stomach virus. My immunity levels were probably fairly run down at that point. The virus knocked me flat on my ass for four days. Sully was actually the first one to get it… Payton thinks he caught it from this bar he likes to go to to watch soccer… it's run by Eastern European immigrants and frequented by other immigrants who don't complain too much about the cleanliness of tables and dishes as long as the satellite tv gets the desired soccer matches and beer is cheap... as such, it cannot be considered the most cleanly of places. Payton went there once with him after Sully had spent weeks begging her to just give it a try. She did... and then swore she would never go again. Anyway, Sully caught it… and gave it to me… and then I apparently gave it to Sweets… who gave it to Cam… who gave it to Wendell. The entire lab but for Angela, Hodgins, and Booth ended up with the virus which made itself known by resulting in four days of throwing up, chills, fever, and exhaustion.<p>

When I was better, I swore I would kick Sully's ass.

By the time July 4th had passed, I still wasn't feeling my best. Everyone else was fairly much back to normal… albeit a bit thinner from the illnesses.

It was Angela who started me thinking that maybe what I was feeling wasn't due to me needing to kick Sully's ass… but Booth's.

* * *

><p>"Bren, you know as the best friend of the first-time mother, it's tradition that you're the that's supposed to throw me a baby shower?" Angela asked, sitting on Brennan's office couch. She was working off a clipboard, taking notes and making lists… it was all she tended to do these days.<p>

Looking up from her email, Brennan sighed… "I figured you would just tell me, Ange… and then I would have Payton help me plan it."

Ang shrugged… "We're passed the first trimester now… well into the second… and I'm feeling pretty good… so anytime you want to schedule it, is fine with me."

Sighing, Brennan reached for her PDA… she saw the screen open up with an incoming email message. Brennan absentmindedly clicked on the icon and saw it was Hannah sending Andi an email. She was in DC, and she wanted to do dinner. Brennan shrugged, made a mental note to respond later, opened the calendar function, and flipped to the month of August. "I have some time next month before the new semester starts. Once the new academic year begins, you know it's going to get very hectic… maybe we can do something the week of the 18th?"

Angela shrugged. "Me agreeing to the date kinda defeats the purpose of it being a surprise, Bren."

Brennan shrugged… and then said, "I didn't think that you said it has to be a surprise."

"It doesn't," Angela admitted. "However you want to do it is fine with me, sweetie. Thank you."

Brennan nodded, "Good, then like I was saying… the week of the 18th…."

It was then that Brennan looked at her reminders… she was due to get her 90-day supply of her birth control pill refilled. It was then that Brennan skipped back a few screens. She mentally started going over the dates in her head.

* * *

><p>I had a normal period in April… I know because I was miserable Easter weekend… my dad brought Russ and Amy and the girls to DC because I had managed to get them tickets to the White House Easter Egg Hunt. They had a great time… but I had been terrible being crampy and bloated… and other unpleasant things women endure because they are women. Combined with the fact that I had only been back from Afghanistan a couple of weeks meant that my body was adjusting to the time changes and scenic changes in addition to the issues related to my cycle. All of that meant that I was unusually miserable.<p>

I thought back on May… not a good time because of Booth and the discussion… but.. my period had been light that month. I didn't think much of it at the time… true, it was more like spotting, but sometimes that has happened to me even on the pill… particularly when I'm stressed… and I think the discussion with Booth definitely counts as stressed. So, I thought this may have been Mother Nature's way of evening things out considering how horrible I had felt the month before. Combined with the other things that were distracting me, I didn't waste much time thinking about it. That left June... and in June… nope… there was nothing in June.

Hmm… nothing in June… and now it's the beginning of July.

Oh, fuck. Fuck… fuck… fuck. My new favorite word.

I glanced at the clock… it was early afternoon. It would be tricky… but I could find out.

"Hey, Ang… I need to go run over to American for a couple hours. You good here?"

Excuses… excuses. Mostly truth, though. I was going to go over to the campus.

Angela shrugged. "Sure, have a party."

I nodded, grabbed my purse, and headed out. Two hours later, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where one of my acquaintances… a woman who willingly traded a favor from the bones lady for a quick blood panel came back and handed me a print out. Scanning my eyes through the metabolic panel… red blood cell count… white blood cell count… vitamin and mineral counts… I turned over the second page and looked at the hormones and protein readings.

And, there it was, spiked sky high, my hCG level stood out like a sore thumb.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck….

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	19. Ch18:Everything Happens Eventually

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 18 – "Everything Happens Eventually"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "Give it time, Bones, okay? Give it time. Everything happens eventually."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

Like I've said before, at times... life can present you with a surreal experience. And, I know, it's trite. Guy falls in love with girl. Confesses. Girl rejects guy. Girl then realizes girl has fallen in love with guy. Mixed signals separate the pair. Zany hijinx ensue. Great sex happens. More mixed signals separate the pair. Girl winds up unexpectedly pregnant.

Ugggh.

I am thirty-five years old. I have an IQ somewhere between 140 and 150. After all I've done in my life, if and when I got knocked up, I should be able to come up with a more creative scenario than this.

But, that said, I can't say that I'm not happy.

I'm pregnant. It's Booth's. I *am* happy.

Another great thing about being a forensic anthropologist? You know a lot of scientists… or scientists who know other scientists. My OB/GYN happened to be the best friend of one of the grad students I went to school with at Northwestern… and, as such, she had kind of become a friend to me herself over the years. That meant I had her private cell phone number… and, as a favor to me… she told me to come in before her first appointment the next morning. She had me fill out the standard questionnaire, drew some blood, did a routine physical examination… and, yes, concluded that the hCG levels in my blood test had not lied. I was pregnant. At that moment, a lab tech had come in and apologized… he looked at the doctor in confusion and said that he thought that the first appointment wasn't for another forty-five minutes. Was he somehow mistaken and late in setting up the ultrasound machine?

My OB/GYN smiled and shook her head. Then she turned to me and asked if, since the machine and tech were here, I wanted to get the test done instead of having to come back in a week anyway? I shrugged, leaned back on the exam table, and a few minutes later I was hearing the most unbelievable sound – my baby's heartbeat. I have heard a lot of amazing and wonderful things in my life. I have heard loved ones give thanks for an answer about the fate of lost loved ones. I have heard applause reverberate throughout a lecture hall at my presentation of new research. I have heard fans chanting my name at book readings after I publish something new. I have heard Booth call my name. But, none of these things... none of them can compare to hearing the whooshing flutter of my baby's heartbeat in stereo sound.

When all was said and done, I left the office with a dazed look and a small, dumb grin on my face, three cute little B&W amorphous blob photos, and a DVD. I also left with a bottle of prenatal vitamins and an appointment card for my next visit. However, the most informative piece of information I left with was my due date.

"And, that, Mom, is the reason I'm here," I said, shuffling my feet as I looked down at my mother's tombstone. "I don't know if you were a ghost or a hallucination or something else entirely, but since you won't appear when it is urgent, and I need to talk to you, I figured this was as good a place as any to verbally assess my situation."

Sighing, I plopped down in the grass in front of my mother's grave. My feet hurt, I was tired, and it was only 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Somewhere along the way between the doctor's office that morning and my travels to the cemetary where my mother was buried, something had flicked a switch in my head. Before I took that blood test at American, the idea that I was unusually hormonal would never have entered my mind. Now that I knew I was supposed to be hormonal, I could seem to get a grip on things emotionally - something I'm not good at even under the best circumstances.

Looking up at the tombstone, I decided it was much better than actually talking to empty space. At least if someone saw me talking to the tombstone, they wouldn't think I was crazy.

"January 4th," I said to the tombstone. "That's my due date. January 4th." I was silent for a moment and then nodded. "I have to admit, when I realized what was going on, there was a part of me that was surprised. I guess I wasn't as trite as I might have been… I could have gotten knocked up in Afghanistan… but, nope, my doctor's positive. January 4th due date puts the date of conception firm in mid-April. I'm not far enough along for what it would have been to be mid-March. So, that means I got pregnant here in DC."

I sighed. "Now, the question is how to handle this. I know I haven't been doing the best job telling Booth the truth lately… my first impulse is to track him down and force him to talk to me… right now. But, if I do that, there's a part of me that feels like I would be manipulating him again, and I don't really want to do that... so I don't know what to do. I really don't. I've felt like this for three months... paralyzed from being able to act, because I'm doubting every idea I have now. I don't want to make things any worse for him... but, that's all I seem to do... all I can do is make things worse. I don't know how to do something that might actually have a positive effect on him anymore. So, that may be another reason I'm here, Mom. I can't believe I'm actually doing this... but I need help, Mom. I need help to know what to do. Please?"

I stayed there, sat there, waiting. I thought there might be some sign. Some epiphany that would come from sitting there, staring at the stone with the words carved "Beloved Mother" on it. Frustrated and feeling very foolish and stupid... after about a half hour... I also realized how fatigued and dehydrated I was becoming... it really being too hot and too humid in mid-July for me to stay in the cemetery feeling sorry for myself in front of my mother's grave for very long. I was sweating profusely by the time I got up and turned to stand and leave. And, then, in perhaps an ironic twist, I saw a pair of blue eyes staring at me.

* * *

><p>"Hey, baby..." Max Keenan's voice said.<p>

Brennan glanced from her mother's stone to her father, where he stood leaning against a tree trunk not that far away.

"Dad?" Brennan asked in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

Max shrugged. "Oh, you know... sometimes... when I'm confused... or lonely... or I just want to be alone with your mother, I come out here to check in with her."

"She's not here, Dad, you do know that?" Brennan said with a slight frown.

Chuckling, Max nodded. "Then why are you here?"

At that, the annoyance quickly deflated from Brennan's stiff form. "I don't know. I... I think I was looking for some help."

"Help?" Max asked. "This help doesn't by chance have anything to do with whatever scheme your brilliant brain came up with a few months ago that required me putting you in contact with Seth, now, did it?"

Biting her lip, Brennan said. "Maybe." She then paused before she added, "But, I'm not certain how brilliant my brain actually is lately, Dad. I think my neurons may have atrophied. I- I'm not as smart as I think I used to be."

Max laughed at this, and came forward and drew Brennan into a hug. "Oh, Tempe, of course you're brilliant. You're beyond brilliant. You're... you're... well, I can't think of an appropriate descriptor at the moment, but if there is one thing I feel quite certain I have no reason to doubt in this world, it's your intelligence."

"But, you don't know what's happened," Brennan said. "If you knew, you would have to assess the situation to have occurred as the result of some error I made on my own part."

Pulling her towards him, Max nodded in the direction of a bench that stood not too far off in the distance. "Come on, then, tell me, and we'll see."

Remembering how hot she was becoming, Brennan nodded, but then stopped and said, "Okay, but do you think we might be able to sit in my car? I've been out here for a while, and I really, really would like to be exposed to some air conditioning at the moment."

"Sure," Max said. "Lead the way."

Brennan nodded with a weak smile, and began to walk back to her car, only turning around once to make sure her father was following her. And, as she did, she thought she saw a beam of sunlight illuminate the name 'Christine Brennan' on her mother's tombstone, and wondered, perhaps... just perhaps, if her plea for help had been answered after all.

* * *

><p>"So, then, he turned around and walked out," Brennan said sniffling.<p>

"Oh, honey," Max said, as he reached over, and pulled her to him in another hug. "I'm so sorry."

"How can you say that?" Brennan asked in disbelief.

"What?"

"How can you feel bad... for me?" Brennan asked. "I'm the one who did all these horrible things... and you feel bad for... for me? That doesn't make any sense."

"Sure it does," Max said. "You're my daughter, not Booth. You're in pain-"

"So is he!"

"But, again, Tempe... you're *my* daughter. I love you. You come first... Booth... he's a good man, but he only means as much to me as he means to you. Take away your relationship to him, and... well, baby... he's FBI. That doesn't really endear him to me and make me go want to get a beer with him."

"I still don't understand how you can have sympathy for me."

"Well," Max said. "Look at it this way... for a few weeks, you were another person. You did to because you wanted to take care of someone you love even if how you went about it wasn't exactly the most logical or effective or truthful of actions. If there is anyone who can understand that... well... it's me, baby. Because I did it. Twice."

"Yes, I know," Brennan said softly. She paused... her brow furrowing a bit as she said, "Now that you describe the situation in those exact terms, I think I may even feel worse, Dad. Knowing how it is to feel lied to and then abandoned... I wouldn't want anyone to have to go through what I did."

"Well," Max said carefully, "It's not like they're exactly the same situations... but there are a lot of similarities."

"No wonder Booth hates me," Brennan said. "I'd hate me too from that perspective."

"Stop it, Tempe," Max said. "Stop beating yourself up over this. You made a mistake, you've tried to apologize, you're still trying to make things right. You and Booth will get past this somehow. I know you will."

Brennan bit her lip and said, "There's more, Dad."

"What?" Max asked. "Were you someone else after being Andi?"

Brennan shook her head. "It's just that... aside from telling Booth... and telling you... I haven't exactly told anyone else *ALL* the details of what's been going on the past few months. No one except you and Booth know I was in Afghanistan... that I was Andi... that Booth and I had a relationship... every thinks that for the seven weeks I was living as Andi that Temperance Brennan was on a dig in Alexandria on the Caucus identifying the remains of ancient Macedonian noblemen and noblewomen."

"Ahh," Max said. "You're saying you've been selective in sharing which details with your friends?"

"And Booth's family," Brennan nodded.

"Well, I'm sure you've had your reasons, Tempe," Max said.

"I did... I do... I just don't know if they're good reasons," Brennan said.

"Dad?" Brennan asked.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"There's something else I need to tell you... there's more to the story... I... there's something I haven't even told Booth yet," Brennan said.

Max laughed slightly. Brennan frowned at him and said, "Sorry, honey... didn't mean to make light of things... I'm just wondering how much more that brilliant brain of yours managed to come up with... setting aside personal investment in the situation... well... it's a really good story. Crazy... out there... but a good story."

Brennan said. "Okay, then here's the part where it goes from interesting to trite."

"Okay," Max said. "Hit me."

"You want me to hit you? Why?" Brennan asked. She then stopped, looked at her father's smile, and said, "Oh, you mean metaphorically."

Max nodded with a small smile. Brennan nodded... took a breath, and then said... "I'm pregnant... Booth's the father... and I don't know how to tell him."

At this, something tightened in Max's demeanor. He stiffened... still the smile never left his face... and he took a breath.

Brennan winced and said, "You're not happy. Your body language indicates that you are not pleased by the news that you are going to be a grandfather."

At this, Max let out a breath, and he shook his head. "I knew it! I knew I should have punched him in the balls harder than I did..."

"Dad!" Brennan said in frustration.

Max sighed. "Honey, does this news make *you* happy?"

"Yes," Brennan said, instantaneously. "I... I don't know if it's right or wrong for me to feel this way... but I am very happy that... that something tangible now exists to confirm the more abstract aspects of my relationship to Booth. This baby is concrete proof of that which has gone on between us. With the baby... things aren't as ephemeral to me."

"So, you're happy, then I'm happy... no, over the moon. I'm not just happy, I'm over the moon that you're pregnant, baby." Max smiled and then looked up at Brennan. "Huh... how about that... my baby is going to be a mother." His grin widened.

Brennan couldn't help but feel herself unwind a little bit as she nodded and asked, "It's a good thing, right?

"More than you know," Max said. "But..."

"But?" Brennan asked hesitantly.

"But," Max said. "You're now the mother of his child. That means that Booth can't simply pull this immature ignore and brood bullshit it sounds like he's been pulling since he stormed out of your apartment three months ago."

"I hurt him, Dad," Brennan said softly. "And for the first week or so afterwards... when the details came out... it just kept snow piling and getting worse. He... Rebecca called me... she was crying, Dad. The fight they had when he found out everything... the actual specifics over the time I'd been spending with Parker. He... Rebecca said he said I was corrupting his son. Booth... said that... about me. Rebecca said... he said, what type of mother was Rebecca if she willing let her son spend time with a liar and a..."

"What?" Max growled sharply. "What did Booth call you?"

Brennan waved him off as she started to sniffle. "If I tell you, you'll try to hurt him."

"That may happen regardless," Max said evenly. "However, you can rest assured... I most likely would not actually kill the father of my grandchild."

"Most likely?" Brennan sobbed. "Actually? Dad!"

Max shrugged. "Sorry, Tempe. It's the best I can do when my baby girl is crying like this in front of my because of that SOB."

"Rebecca said..." Brennan began.

"What?"

"I'm still not certain I should tell you in case you have another strong emotional reaction, Dad."

"Tempe!"

Brennan looked up at her father and sighed before she said, "Rebecca said... he might have used the words 'manipulative cold-hearted bitch.'"

Max was already clenching his hands together, and Brennan winced as she saw them whiten as he clenched his fists. even more tightly

"I shouldn't have told you that," Brennan said. Reaching over, she laid her hand on his arm. "Dad, please?"

"What?"

"Please, promise me that you aren't going to do anything to Booth."

Max eyed her and nodded. "You're *my daughter*, Tempe. He can't... he can't just get away with that..."

"And, it's because of me that *his son* spent months lying to him, Dad," Brennan said. "About this... Booth has the right to be hurt... my intentions may have been good... but a lie of omission is a lie nonetheless. I shouldn't have done it."

"You had your reasons," Max said. "They may not have been the best... but when you love someone, you forgive them when they screw up."

"Maybe Booth doesn't really love me then," Brennan said softly. "I can't think of any other reason why I haven't been able to get him to come around."

Max looking at her squarely in the eyes said, "Do you really believe that?"

Sighing, Brennan was quiet for a moment before she shook her head. "No... I don't think he could be as angry and hurt and wanting to lash out at me as he has if he didn't really love me."

"And he hasn't said anything... in anger... towards you since that night?" Max asked.

Shaking her head, Brennan said. "No. Not a word. He's been the perfect gentleman. Courteous, professional... the perfect partner since it happened."

Max was silent for a moment more and then nodded. "If he's as angry and as hurt and as badly wanting to lash out at you as you say... and if he's been working with you in the field just like normal without doing anything about that anger, then, yeah, he must really love you, Tempe. He's hurting himself rather than taking at his anger on you."

"I know," Brennan said. "And I don't know how to stop that... how to break the stalemate. But, I've got to, Dad. Somehow, someway, we've got to get over this. We're on a deadline now."

A ring suddenly pierced the air as Brennan's phone rang. Glancing down, she nodded at the clock and said, "Shit, I'm late... I was supposed to meet Angela and some of the others at the Founding Fathers over an hour ago."

Nodding, Max leaned over and gave her a kiss. "Go, then."

He turned to get out and then leaned back into the car.

"Tempe?"

"Yes, Dad?"

"Here's the best advice I can give you... go... find Booth... sooner rather than later... and tell him. Just tell him, and see what he wants to do."

"That's what my instinct was, but I didn't want to make things worse between us," Brennan said.

"The truth, in this particular instance, can't make things worse," Max said. "Just tell him, honey."

"I will."

Max nodded. He then said, "Tempe?"

"Yes?"

"I won't do anything to him before you talk to him... but if he makes my little girl cry again, I can't make any more promises."

Brennan bit her lip, nodded, and smiled weakly as Max slammed the door shut and waved goodbye. Putting the car into gear, Brennan cursed as she realized how late exactly she was actually going to be to the Founding Fathers for drinks with Angela, Hodgins, Sully, and Payton.

* * *

><p>Brennan entered the Founding Fathers looking harried and tired. She saw the group gathered around a table in the front part of the restaurant. Nodding at Angela, she went to the bar and ordered a cranberry juice. Let them think what they would from the order. If they didn't know vodka was absent, so what?<p>

Angela looked at her with a smile as she pulled a chair to the table and said, "Hey sweetie."

"Hi," Brennan mentioned to them all.

"How's it going, Tempe?" Sully asked, his eyebrows raised in suspicion.

Brennan shrugged. "It's July. It's hot. I'm sweaty... dehydrated... and tired."

Sully chuckled. "Anything else?"

Brennan cracked a smile, "If you really want to know, Sully, yeah… I'm slightly annoyed by inquisitive partners."

Sully laughed. Perotta asked with a nod, "That to him or me, Tempe?"

"Both of you, if we don't stop with all these questions..." Brennan said. She forced a smile and said, "Look, I'm fine. Still just a little off kilter from the stomach flu…" She stopped to stare at Sully who had the grace to look abashed. "It's just been a bit to deal with given the recent lack of manpower at the lab."

"At least the case load has slowed up a bit," Perotta said innocently.

Hodgins nodded, "Yeah, it's been real considerate of people to choose to not to die under suspicious circumstances on federal property lately."

Sully took a drink of his beer before he said, "If I didn't know better, I would say that things have been going unusually slow, but Booth mentioned something about the Bureau lightening up on using sub contractors since its only the beginning of the fiscal year. Not as much money to burn as there was before the budget year ended on the 30th."

Brennan frowned. "Do you think that he's purposely shifting cases from us, Sully?"

Shrugging, Sully said. "Don't know. Maybe… every time I try to talk to him about it he gets those panties of his that have been in a bunch for the last few weeks even tighter."

"Yeah," Perotta said. "He's been quite the pain in the ass around the Hoover. Even Hacker's noticed and made a comment the other day. It was just a joke in the break room in from of Charlie and a couple other agents. But, Booth went off on Hacker. From what Charlie said, it bordered on insubordination. Hacker was pissed... not so much because Booth was being such an asshole, but that he made Hacker have to put on the Assistant Director hat to get him to back off."

Brennan's frown deepened. She looked to Sully. "I know it's been bad, but is it getting worse?"

Sully winced, then nodded. "Yeah, Tempe. It is... whatever's going on with Booth... he's... he's in pain. A lot..."

"How do you know that?"

Sully shrugged. "I know the signs... I know what it's like to have my heart broken, Tempe."

Angela looked to Hodgins as Sully said these words, but they remained quiet as Brennan remained focused on the two FBI agents.

"What else haven't you told me?"

Sully looked to Payton who shrugged... and then said, "Don't look at me like that, Tim. I told you you needed to tell her weeks ago."

"What?" Brennan said, nodding at Payton. "What should Sully have told me?"

Sully shrugged and then said, "It's... it's not anything official, Tempe... but... he's basically living in his office. Doesn't leave it much unless he's got Parker... I can't remember the last time I saw him when he didn't have dark circles under his eyes... we all were getting worried about him... I tried to talk to him a couple of times and was told, in no uncertain terms to back off. I think he told Sweets the same thing, but-"

"Sweets being Sweets pushed?" Brennan asked.

Sully nodded. "And, well... maybe a month after everyone was back... maybe sometime in... what was it Payton?"

She shrugged. "Sometime in May? Mid-May maybe?"

"Yeah," Sully said. "That was probably when his generally pissy attitude that he'd had since he came back from Afghanistan went from bad to worse. Anyway... he was in the monitoring room with Sweets, they were waiting for a suspect to be brought in... and I guess Sweets said something... and... this is just what Charlie said that Smith said he saw when Booth walked out of the room... but, we think that Sweets said something, and Booth hit him."

"What?" Brennan and Angela said simultaneously.

"Sweets said he dislocated his jaw when the suspect belted him," Angela said. "Err... wrote it, actually, since he couldn't actually talk... just grunt, really."

Brennan felt a bit dizzy as she said, "You're telling me the reason why Sweets had to get his jaw wired shut was... because of Booth?"

Sully's hands went up in protest. "No. Did I say that? No, I didn't say that. And, if you talk to Sweets, he still denies that Booth touched him," Payton said. "And since no one else saw anything for sure... it's just... well..." She nodded at Sully and he continued.

"Ever since then, I've been doing my best to watch him," Sully said. Brennan's eyebrows raised, wondering how badly things had gotten for Booth. Not many people knew about his gambling issues, and she didn't feel like enlightening people unless necessary. Fortunately, Sully was one who did know... he and Booth had become friends and shared battle scars the year Sully had lost his partner (the year before he had started dating Brennan). Brennan asked her question with a glance and Sully shook his head. "No, I don't think it's that bad, Tempe... but he's been drinking. A lot."

At this, Angela said, "Bren, sweetie, why didn't you tell us that something was going on with Booth?"

* * *

><p>I only half caught Angela's question because I was distracted by a loud giggle… and a deeper, but still loud burst of laughter that answered it in kind. Although there was no logical reason for me to think that there was anything familiar about either sound, I couldn't help but think I *did* know those laughs. Distracted, I turned from Angela, and said, "What, Ang?"<p>

Angela repeated her question… I was still distracted… and, again, didn't answer. Looking over Angela's shoulder... then I saw it. A flash of blonde hair that looked a bit too familiar on the far side of the bar.

"Bren?"

"Huh?"

"You okay?" she asked.

Turning back to Angela, I nodded. "Yes, I'm am. Sorry. Just thought I saw someone I knew."

Angela nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, but I held up a hand and said, "Sorry, again, Ange. Give me just a second, gotta phone call I need to take."

She nodded. Taking my phone out of the pocket of my jeans, I scrolled through my list of contacts. It didn't seem logical, but two days ago *she* had emailed me that she was in DC now.

Finding the right contact, I dialed the number and waited… sure enough, as I moved closer to the blonde that was sitting with her back to me, I saw her reach for her phone. Picking it up, I heard her answer, "Hannah Burley."

When she shifted to answer the phone, her back revealed just a bit more of the bar space in front of her and then I saw it… the bottle of Jose Cuervo tequila on the bar… near two shot glasses... one of which rested in front of Hannah's drinking partner… who happened to be none other than… you guessed it right… Booth.

I hastily clicked the phone to end the call, squeezed my hand around the phone, pursed my lips, and realized almost instantaneously, I was angry. Very pissed off. Very, very pissed off. Hannah? I mean, seriously... Hannah? What. The. Fuck.

At that point, Angela and Payton came up behind me. Angela looked to where I was staring as Payton asked, "You okay, Tempe?"

"Yeah, Bren… what's wrong?"

It was then that Hannah shifted again, and both Payton and Angela saw Booth. Hannah leaned into him, laughing. She pushed a final shot toward him, he laughed in response to what she had said, nodded, and downed the shot with a large smile. The grin... he was grinning at her with *my* grin.

WTF. WTF. WTF.

Hannah smiled at Booth in return, and I knew that smile. It was her fake, 'aren't I so cute smile'... and Booth was falling for it! That son of a bitch was ACTUALLY falling for it.

WTF. WTF. WTF.

She leaned into him, close enough to place a hand proprietorially on his shoulder. He leaned in as she whispered something in his ear and nodded to the door. He nodded in agreement, and the pair stood. Walking around the opposite side of the bar, I watched them go… as did Payton and Angela. Or, more accurately, Payton and Angela watched me watch them go.

What. The. Fuck. What. The. Fuck. What. The. Fuck. WHAT. THE. FUCK!

Once they had left, Angela spoke first. "You okay, Bren?"

Lips pursed together, eyes blazing, fists clinched, I shook my head.

"Nope."

The rational part of my mind seemed to take a five-minute coffee break because I wasn't thinking clearly at the moment. I was on emotion... pure raw emotion... which seemed to be exacerbated by my hormones... and anger and adrenaline were beginning to flow through my veins. Instinct... primal instinct... I don't know how... but, instincts were fueling my actions.

After I answered Angela, I didn't say another word. I merely spun on my heels and marched over to where I had left my purse at the table. Grabbing it, Payton and Angela right behind me, Sully was the first to catch the change in the air. He still could read me very, very well.

"What happened?" he asked, the tone in his voice changing to one of a very serious nature. I just shook my head. He then turned to Perotta and repeated the question. She shook her head and said, "Booth did something really stupid."

Angela came up behind Brennan and said, "Sweetie… what do you want to do? How do you want to handle this? Just name it, and we'll do it however you want."

Hodgins sensed the change in the tone of his wife's voice. "Are we forming a posse for some reason, Ange?"

"Oh, yeah," Angela nodded.

"Cool," Hodgins said, rubbing his hands together. "Who are we hunting down?"

"Booth," Angela spat. "And hunting him down like the damn dirty dog he is is a great analogy."

"Maybe... but if anyone's going to handle this, it's me," I said finally. Snapping at Angela I said, "I'll handle it."

"What are you going to do, Bren?"

At this, I stopped grinding my teeth and swung on my best friend, I said, quite honestly, "I'm not sure what I'm going to do, Ang, but when I know, if I need help, I'll call you, okay?"

I then grabbed my bag and stomped out of the bar.

* * *

><p>"Man!" Hodgins said, a breath of air shattering the silence that had fallen over the table once Brennan blazed out of the bar. "I've known Dr. B. for nine years, almost ten... and I have never, EVER seen her that pissed off before…."<p>

"That was rather scary, wasn't it?" Sully asked.

"Whoa… whatever Booth did to set her off…" Hodgins mused. He then turned to Angela and asked, "Angie… what did she see?"

Angela frowned… "I'm not certain, but if she saw what I think she thinks she saw, we might need to go and bail her out of jail shortly."

Hodgins shrugged. "You know I've got the firm's best monkey suites on speed dial."

Angela leaned forward, a weary smile on her face, "Thanks, sweetie."

Hodgins returned the smile.

At this, Perotta finally spoke up. "Hey, Angela, do you think that was who she told us about?"

Angela's eyes narrowed. "The blonde reporter from Afghanistan? The one that was all over Booth?"

Perotta nodded.

Angela winced and then nodded. "Yeah… I don't think any other random blonde draped all over Booth would quite set her off like that."

"Why do I feel like I am missing something?" Sully said, honestly. "Did Tempe see Booth with his girlfriend?"

Perotta shook her head. "No... Booth broke up with his girlfriend... who also happens to be a reporter... what, a couple of months ago, Ang?"

Angela nodded. "Yeah, he ditched Afghan Andi sometime in May, I think."

"Conspicuous timing," Hodgins mused.

Shrugging, Angela said, "I don't know... maybe the break up was what made him be so moody."

"But he and Dr. B haven't been fighting," Hodgins said. "Everything's seemed fine at the lab."

"Yeah," Angela said. "It made me think that maybe now that Booth got rid of the girlfriend, he and Bren might have a chance... after all, although I never got many details about Booth's breakup with Andi... the relationship didn't last that long, so I hoped it was just a fling that might have happened when he was distracted by the deployment. Now that it's time to get serious since he was home again, like I said, I hoped it might be the time for Bren and Booth... but, from what she said..."

Perotta and Angela looked down, shook their heads collectively, and said nothing in response.

"What?" Sully said.

"I know Bren is keeping something from me," Angela said. "I'm not sure what... but whatever it is, it's enough that Booth seems to want to go more for this other reporter that was also embedded with him in Afghanistan."

"From what Tempe said," Payton began, "She was after Booth even when he made it quite clear that he was dating the brunette reporter. What was her name again?"

"Afghan Andi," Angela said automatically.

"What's with the nickname?" Sully said, interrupting. "Did you even meet her?"

"No," Angela said. "But if she was Booth's girlfriend, that means that she was keeping Bren from being with him... and since I'm extremely, extremely biased in my best friend's favor, I'm going to side with Bren over just about anyone else."

"Heh!" Hodgins said.

"Okay," Angela amended. "Almost anyone else."

"Thanks, hun," Hodgins smiled.

Sully looked at him wearily. "You two are really weird, you know that?"

Then Hodgins reached for his drink and nodded at Sully. "It's a girl thing, dude. Best just accept it and move on."

Sully nodded slowly.

Hodgins took a moment to look at the door, and then nodded at Angela and Perotta. "So this blonde… who wins… her or Dr. B?"

Perotta and Angela both laughed. Angela then looked up honestly and said, "Oh, sweetie… Brennan, in half of a heartbeat. And I pity the fool who thinks she stands any chance otherwise. I mean... she's Max Keenan's daughter."

"Yeah," Hodgins mused. "Sometimes we forget that part, that Dr. B's actually the daughter of a homicidal ex-con... who has a certain panache in the way he killed, but still..."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Sully said. "Do you think whatever it is that Tempe saw was that bad?" Sully asked.

Perotta took the chance to interject. "Most definitely… because... well, you saw her, Sully. Would you want Hurricane Brennan on your trail when she has a look in her eyes like that?"

Sully took a sip of his beer and then shrugged her head. "Nope, I definitely can say I do not."

Hodgins, "Exactly, dude, exactly."

The group began to chat a bit more, not really realizing that what they had seen was really just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

* * *

><p>I don't think I reached Booth's apartment all that long after they got there. I don't know why I knew that was where they were going… I just did. I was pissed at myself, having to dig under Booth's stupid, stupid fake hallway rock for a key. I had given mine back to Jared before Booth's return home. Fucking stupid rock... fucking stupid Booth... fucking dead Hannah! Getting the key, and jamming it in the lock, I opened the door.<p>

I immediately noticed three things… a bottle of Scotch was on the table, opened and poured, but not yet drank… they were on the couch, and a wave of blonde hair lay draped over Booth... giggling that goddamn giggle of hers. Fuck, I *HATE* that fucking sound.

The last conscious thought I had before I moved was that I never used to believe the old adage seeing red actually had a physical corollary. I was wrong.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	20. Ch19:Should Just Be Ours

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 19 – "Should Just Be Ours"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "I was, yes, but you and I- this was our case. And, I guess... what goes on between us... that should just be ours. Isn't that what you said?"

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

Oh, I was angry. I was pissed. I was fucking mad… red… seeing red. I was actually, literally, seeing nothing but the color red in my field of vision.

Fortunately, I didn't need to be able to see many distinct features as I hailed a cab, climbed in the back, gave the driver Booth's address, and clinched and reclinched my fists the entire short ride from the Founding Fathers to his apartment. I was in no frame of mind to drive myself, and I knew it.

A thousand thoughts swirled in my head during that ten-minute taxi cab ride.

Why? Really? How?

Why would he? Why would he want to? How could he? How could he want to? Really? No jokes? Really?

Once I arrived at his building, I hastily paid the cabbie, blew through the entryway, bypassed the elevator, and pounded up three flights of stairs. I remember, as I said, going to the rock, getting the key, jiggling the lock, pushing open the door... and the first evidence to inflame my anger was in the entry way. *Our* entryway... the very same goddamn entry where Booth had smiled that smile at me... slammed me up against the door, and where we proceeded to share one of the best sexual experiences I've ever had... right in that same doorway... I saw a pair of beige peep-toed stiletto heels... and a white bolero purse haphazardly abandoned. Moving in... I... I know I went through the kitchen, turned a corner, and then saw them. Hannah... the Scotch bottle I had bought to replace the one that I drank the night of that damn phone call several months ago... and Booth... with a blonde female draped all over him.

After that... well, after that, things get a little cloudy. The nice logical part of my brain that was labeled "RATIONAL BRAIN of DR. TEMPERANCE BRENNAN" seemed to have excused itself and stayed quietly outside Booth's apartment door in the hallway on another apparent coffee break. Or, maybe it had never returned from its absence at the Founding Fathers. That only left the ID… the base, emotional part of my mind that was jumping up and down (proverbially, of course) and begging to be in control. And, in that moment, for lack of any other options – or preferences, I conceded. Sweets would have loved it… my tacit acknowledgement of a soft science construct… and it was Freud no less!

From what I can recall after the fact – and I admit my memory is a bit hazy because I was high of endorphins and adrenaline – I think I did something like this….

* * *

><p>Brennan threw the door open. Her heels clicked sharply on the wooden floors of the apartment. Hannah's giggles stopped abruptly as her head snapped up, and she looked in the direction of the entry way. Brennan took her purse and keys and dropped them unceremoniously on the kitchen counter. She walked through the kitchen, turned to her left, and arms on her hips in an aggressive display, she stood silently with lips pursed and a look that couldn't quite be described on her face beyond anything but pure cold rage.<p>

Hannah, to her credit, recovered quickly. Pulling back from Booth, although not getting out of his lap, Hannah brushed her loose hair away from where it had fallen across her forehead.

"Andi, hey!" Hannah said. "I've been meaning to call you. Did you get the last email I sent?"

Brennan's lips pursed even more as Booth, for the first time, recognized what was going on… being somewhat slow on the uptake as he eyed Brennan. "Long time no see, Bones."

Brennan sighed, arched an eye and looked at Hannah. Hannah returned her gaze, and nodded again, "Did you do something different to your hair?"

Indeed, from the last time that Hannah had seen it, Brennan had re-dyed her hair closer to its natural color. She had kept the bangs, but did get the extensions removed and the hair cut shorter. It was an odd combination of both Brennan and Andi's styles.

At last, Brennan nodded at Hannah, and then, removing one of her hands from her jeans pockets where it was covertly fisted in rage, she pointed at Booth. "Hannah, I thought we went over this."

Hannah looked at her, then at Booth, and then shrugged. "Remind me again."

Brennan took a step towards her. Hannah didn't so much as flinch. Brennan pointed at Booth. "I believe I told you in Afghanistan the last time that you made your sexual interest in Booth known that he was unavailable to service you because he is with someone."

"I am not with someone, Bones," Booth said.

Hannah nodded. "See, Andi? Seeley, here, doesn't seem to object to my presence," Hannah purred, grinding herself down into his lap.

Brennan took another step forward and pointed at her again. "Don't call him that."

"What?" Hannah asked in genuine confusion.

"'Seeley'. Don't call him that."

"Why? It's his name, isn't it?" Hannah asked.

"And he hates it," Brennan said. "Now…" she paused and took another step closer to Hannah and Booth, "Perhaps I didn't make it clear before, but I will do so now with no room for any misinterpretation... even by someone like you. Booth is with someone, Hannah, as in taken, off the market, has a girlfriend, is in a committed long-term monogamous relationship, not yours, musn't touch, stay away."

Finished with her assessment, Brennan shot a look at Booth, daring him to correct her.

Hannah looked at her and said, "I'm not doing anything to Seeley that he doesn't want done."

"He's male, he's drunk, and he's lonely… probably horny too," Brennan said matter-of-factly. "He's too stupid to know what he wants right now. Fortunately, for him, he has me to show you out of our apartment."

"Our?" Booth finally decided to speak. "It's 'our' now, Bones?"

Hannah eyed him, and for the first time, a bit of her bravado failed.

Brennan moved her head in the direction of the door. "Time to go now, Hannah."

"I'm not going anywhere," Hannah said, defiantly. She then pulled herself closer to Booth. "He wants me here, so I'm staying."

"Oh, no, you're not," Brennan said.

"Seeley, do you want me to stay?" Hannah asked, turning to Booth.

Opening his mouth to say something, Booth was interrupted when Hannah moved her face to his and took the opportunity to stick her tongue down his throat.

"That's it," Brennan said. The clicking of her heels loudly reverberated in the apartment once more as she reached down, and in a rather spectacular move, wrenched Hannah from Booth's lap and then tossed her on the ground in front of the couch.

Heavily breathing, Brennan spun on Booth who moved to help Hannah up. "Move one goddamn muscle, Booth, and you'll think the time I socked you at your funeral was a love tap."

Booth's eyes widened, either at Brennan's use of the colloquialism or at her threat, she couldn't say. However, he remained where he was. Hannah moved to stand, and she took a step towards Brennan.

"Who in the hell do you think you are?" Hannah said.

Brennan reached out, and when she saw Hannah's unbuttoned top, saw red again as she yanked the blonde forward. "Partner, girlfriend, significant other, mother of his child… take your pick... or all of the above."

She then dragged Hannah to the door, threw it open, and pushed her outside. She grabbed Hannah's shoes and purse from where they had dropped in the entry way. Throwing them at her, Brennan said, "Now, let's be clear. Professionally, I find you to be an adequate journalist… and I do hope this little exchange won't impair our ability to work together in a professional manner. But, if I ever find you anywhere near Booth again, I will demonstrate to you several very unpleasant ways in which I can break just about every goddamn bone in your stupid, shallow, self-centered, self-involved dumb blonde slut of a body. I have planned the perfect murder before, Hannah. I know what I need to do to kill you, bury your body so that not so much as a bone chip is found, and get away with it. Do we understand each other?"

Hannah stood opened mouthed at Brennan's diatribe.

Brennan smiled, taking the silence for her answer. "Good. Now, get lost."

Slamming the door in her face, Brennan locked it and spun on her heels. Moving back to the sitting area, Brennan let the anger she had been holding back flow through her. She pointed at Booth.

"You stupid, stupid… alpha-male asshole! How could you?" Taking a step towards him, Brennan shook her head. "Of all the asinine, trite, stupid, stupid choices you could make… falling for Hannah and her stupid, stupid, trite, shallow lines? Come on, Booth. Really?"

At this, something in Booth's eyes blazed. "Who are you to judge me?" he spat.

"How many times did she try pulling that fucking pouty 'aren't I cute' look on you in Afghanistan, and you never fell for it then. Why now?"

"Because I didn't want to fall for it then and maybe now I do!" Booth shot back.

"You know what?" Brennan said. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything... the lies... the manipulation... the betrayal. I'm sorry I hurt you, and I'm sorry that you've spent the past three and a half months feeling like shit, Booth... but that... all that is no fucking excuse for you to fall into Hannah's web of Black Widowness."

"It's not like you even have a leg to stand on here, Bones. It's not like we're together. No... we are definitely *not* together... so I don't really owe you a damn thing... no explanation... no justification. If I want to spend my time with whoever I want to spend my time with... Hannah... or twenty of DC's hottest blonde singles... it's none of your damn business."

"I politely disagree."

"You can disagree all you want, Bones, doesn't make it any less an accurate description," Booth said. He paused and nodded at her as he said with a mock laugh, "Geez... three months, Bones... three months, and you still haven't gotten it through that fucking thick skull of yours that my life has nothing to do with yours outside of what goes on in the Hoover or the Jeffersonian. That's it."

"No."

"No? No? What do you mean 'no'?" Booth said incredulously.

"You're hurt, you're angry... you're in a very vulnerable spot right now... all because of me, I know that, Booth, but... you... us-"

"There is no 'us'!" Booth suddenly shouted. Lowering his voice, he shook his head and said, "There never was an 'us', Bones. Andi? Afghanistan? Afterwards when we came back? It was all a fantasy... an enjoyable fantasy at points, I can't deny that, - it... Andi... you... you were fun. We had fun, Bones. But, that's all it was... a fantasy nonetheless contrived by a woman I've come to realize that I don't think I ever really knew at all."

"That's a lie," Brennan said quietly.

"Is it?" Booth asked. He reached forward and grabbed the poured Scotch shot off the table and downed it. He then reached for Hannah's, downed it, and nodded at Brennan, "Now, if there's nothing else you need-"

"I need you!" Brennan said. "And, goddamn it, Booth... you need me too. If I can admit it..."

"But not mean it-"

"If I can admit that," Brennan said, "And try to figure out how to make everything up to you, how to make things right between us, then the least you can do is stop feeling sorry for yourself and meet me half way and LET ME TRY!"

"Fuck you," Booth said. "Who says you're even worth meeting halfway anyway? That you're worth taking that kind of risk... worth a second chance?" Booth look down and was quiet for a split second. Brennan thought, briefly, she might be finally getting past the wall of hurt and anger he had maintained between them since the truth about Andi had come out. However, he quickly looked up at her, and as fast as it had appeared, the glimmer was gone. In it's place, Booth still radiated anger, clung to it like a lifeline.

Brennan, sensing that so many of the walls that had come down between them in Afghanistan and during their relationship when she was Andi, realized that Booth had spent the past few months trying to rebuild them. For a brief moment, Brennan considered the irony in that... that once the walls between them had come down, it wasn't *her* that had been the one to try to rebuild them. However, she was in a very reactive frame of mind and chose to react to Booth's anger with some of her own. He was being so... illogical! Brennan decided to respond in kind.

"Well, fuck you, too, Booth," Brennan said. "If nothing else... you know what... maybe I did make the right decision. I've spent the last three months doubting it... but, if tonight proves one thing... it proves that I was right. If I hadn't been there as Andi when Hannah was after you, you would have ended up fucking her under a fig tree instead of me."

Booth gasped. "I cannot believe you just said that... or that you... after everything that you've done... after everything that's happened... think that you have the right to feel angry and indignant here."

Brennan didn't respond to his comment. Instead, she pointed at the coffee table. "And you know what, I should kick your ass right now if for no other reason that you were getting drunk… with *that* dumb blonde on *tequila* shots… since when do you drink our drink with dumb fucking blondes... and then you preceded to bring her back here… to drink our scotch!"

"You gave it to me, so it's technically mine," Booth countered.

"Technicality, Booth!" Brennan yelled.

Standing up, Booth began to rub the bridge of his nose. He took a step away from Brennan, eyed her up and down, and said, "You had no right to do what you did. This is my home… Hannah was my guest."

"Fuck that," Brennan said.

"You know what, Bones," Booth said with a sigh. "I am very drunk right now. Not just a little, but very, very drunk. The type of drunk you were when you answered my call that night in January..."

"Yeah, I spent one night drunk," Brennan said. "How many does this make for you?"

"None of your goddamn business," Booth retorted.

"Like hell it isn't," Brennan said. "Listen, I've given you three and a half months of space to stop feeling hurt so we could deal with this, Booth. But, I don't have any more time to give you to stop feeling angry and sorry for yourself. So, this is it. Time to stop hurting other people... time to stop hurting yourself when really the person you need to blow up at is me."

"I didn't- I don't," Booth muttered. "I have nothing else to say to you, Bones."

"Oh, yes, you do..." Brennan retorted. "You have so much you need to say but won't because you don't want to hurt me that it's eating you alive, Booth... has you beating up Jared... making Rebecca cry... making Parker afraid he is going to say something that will set you off... has you almost jumping into Hannah's goddamn bed... which... that last thing is just something that I can't tolerate, Booth. So, this stops here. It ends tonight. You want to punish someone, fine. But, you sure as hell are going to stop punishing yourself and direct your self-destructive inclinations where they actually belong - at me."

"Bones, I'm warning you... you need to turn around and leave, right now, because I am being very honest when I say I suggest you tread very, very carefully, because I will not be responsible for what I say or do from this point out."

"You know what, Booth, that would be a welcome change of pace," Brennan said, echoing his words from their discussion at her appartment that night.

"I'm serious," Booth said, his tone lowering just a bit. His intense eyes flashed, and for a moment, Brennan realized that he was doing his best to intimidate her.

At this, Brennan couldn't help herself as she laughed. "Oh, please, Booth. You think you scare me?"

"Don't have to think, I know so," Booth taunted.

Biting her lip, Brennan nodded and said, "Okay, fair point. You can scare me... you do scare me... but not, and never, when you threatened me with your brooding pouty angry stare there. Never have and never will... especially when we both know that I could kick your ass in a minute."

"You keep provoking me, and we may find out the truth of that statement," Booth muttered.

Brennan laughed again. "Come on, Booth... you want things to get physical, fine." Brennan's eyes narrowed a bit as did her tone when she said, "Besides, it's not like that brooding angry pout stare has ever done anything more for me than making me thinking you were incredibly hot... so, like I said, if you want things to get physical to resolve this... I'm ready and willing."

Booth took a step towards her and for a moment, the pair held each other's gaze in a game of visual chicken... before Booth broke the gaze and said something at her taunt caused Booth to flash in his eyes. He took a step away from her and said, "Who in the hell do you think you are?"

"The woman you love," Brennan shot back.

"*Loved*," Booth spat out.

Brennan laughed again as she shook her head and threw back Booth's long spoken words back at him. "Bull shit."

She took a step towards him, closing the distance between them. "You still love me. You always will."

"Even if I do still love you, you're still the woman who lied to me and broke my fucking heart!" Booth said. "More importantly," he said, indignation coming into his voice, "You and I haven't said a single word, seen each other a single time in the past three months that wasn't work related. If I love you, why the fuck would I do that?"

"Because you were hurt and angry and dealing with what I put you through," Brennan said.

"And if you love me... why did you... why haven't you tried to make things right between us long before now?" Booth asked.

"I was going to give you space, and when I thought you had stopped being so angry, I planned to make things right between us," she said honestly. "I hoped I could give you enough time to stop being angry at me. But, now, seeing as how I can't leave you alone at all before you start falling back into very bad habits that I *thought* we had broken you of... well, you've had enough time. That's over and done with now. Instead, we're going to try a new approach."

"Fuck you, Bones," Booth repeated. "I told you before... you can't control me... you don't get to call the shots here... I do."

She inched towards him, and she felt him stiffen at her approach. She didn't actually touch him, but came as close to standing with her body melded next to his as she could while maintaining a few millimeters of space between them. "I would say that I'm doing quite well in calling the shots here, Booth, and more over... you like it."

"Like hell I do," Booth muttered.

Brennan laughed at that. "You've always thought it was 'hot' when I was the aggressor... you liked it... still like it when I take the dominant position and do things assertively... like pulling that dumb blonde slut up off of you and kicking her ass out."

"No, I don't," Booth said.

"Yes, you do... you can say one thing, but," Brennan's eyes looked downward to indicate of what she was referencing, "another part of you is clearly saying another... leading to my next point... which is... that you still want me. You want me so badly you can't stand it."

"Me wanting you was never the issue," Booth muttered.

"So you do admit it?" Brennan breathed. Booth could feel the warmth of her breath on his cheek.

He looked down at her and growled, "What do you want me to tell you, Bones? That I've spent the past three months fantasizing about you every night? That every dream I have of you is worse now that I know what you taste like, what you feel like, what you sound like when I'm inside you? Would that fucking please you?"

"Yes," she said simply.

Booth sighed again. "Fine. I admit it. I've spent every day of the past three months thinking about you. I hate myself for it, but you're the last thing I think about before I go to sleep and the first thing I think about when I wake up. I get a hard-on at least once a day when we're working the case. I see you bend over your lab table in one of Andi's tops, and it's all I can do not to throw you down and fuck you senseless in front of everyone. I see you prancing around in your office wearing those fuck me heels you started wearing since we've been back, and I have ideas for finally putting that shitty couch of yours to a good use. I see you squint at something in the bones room and figure something out and see this pseudo mock orgasmic look come over your face, and I think of ten different ways how I'd like to knock that look off and replace it with the real thing. For fuck's sake… I can't even get myself off in my own bed or shower unless I'm thinking of you. It's all you. All the time. You. Just you. Are you fucking happy now?"

Brennan nodded. "Maybe."

Booth let out a breath, some of the fight gone out of him as he pushed her away slightly. "Go, please go… just leave me to my drunken stupor in peace."

"So, your plans for tonight were to get drunk, fuck Hannah, reclaim some of your masculinity, and then what?" Brennan pressed.

"Honestly?" Booth replied. "Fall asleep, and, hopefully, not dream of you."

"How often have you done this since the night in my apartment?" Brennan asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Honesty shown in Booth's eyes as he said, "Gotten drunk? A lot. Brought someone home for a one-night stand? First time. And even that got fucked up."

"You're still angry with me," Brennan said.

"Yes!" Booth's head snapped up. "You lied to me."

"And you were going to fuck Hannah!"

"But I didn't."

"Only because I interrupted you, pulled her off you, and kicked her ass out the door," Brennan fired back.

She stopped, took a breath, and then looked up at him and said, "This is so not how I envisioned tonight turning out."

Booth quirked an eyebrow and said, "And how did you plan for tonight to turn out, Bones? Enlighten me."

Reaching into her pocket, Brennan fingered a small glossy square before she said, "Honestly, I thought after meeting Angela, Hodgins, Payton, and Sully for a drink at the Founding Fathers, I'd call you and find out where you were. I figured we'd talk a little, yell a little, maybe even cry a little... I'd give you what I have to give you, and then we'd fall into bed for fantastic make up sex. That was my plan."

"You thought," Booth said evenly, "That whatever you had to tell me would just make all the hurt and lies and pain that have been between us these past few months disappear in a puff of smoke?"

Brennan nodded and said, "Yeah, I did… still do, actually."

Booth laughed at that. "And what great truth could you possibly tell me that would work that miracle, Bones?"

* * *

><p>His words hung in the air… I knew it was not like I planned, but it felt right… now was the time for him to know. For me to tell him. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the sonogram image. Thrusting it in his hand, I nodded and said, "How's that for one of your miracles, Booth?"<p>

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	21. Ch20:You'll Know When You See It

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 20 – "You'll Know When You See It"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "It's like pornography - you'll know when you see it."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

What a rush! What an incredible... mind blowing... incredible... rush! I was on an endorphin high and liking it.

Once I got rid of Hannah, boy, did that make me feel better than I had since I heard her giggle at the Founding Fathers... probably, in all honesty, better than I had in months. Super alpha-female Temperance Brennan at your service. Once I got Booth's attention with the proof my of alpha-female dominance, that just reinforced my original feelings... and made me feel even more powerful.

Coming down off a series of moments like that... it's hard to follow up... let alone top. Fortunately, I wasn't the one that was having to deal with any new life changing information. This moment... this moment was about processing. Not action. Information... and... really, all I could do was stay there until Booth's alcohol-addled brain cells chose to start working again. He would have questions, no doubt... questions that I needed and wanted to answer for him.

If I had it to do over again, I'm not sure I would have waited to share with him the news of his impending fatherhood. Like I said, it *felt* right telling him then... first... at that moment, when he had thrown out those words to me in a taunt... 'miracle'... 'take a miracle'... the first thing that popped into my mind was the baby. I mean, after everything else that had happened... the anger... the hurt, the betrayal, the separation... after everything... there it was.

As I had told my father... located just a few inches below my heart, *tangible*, physical proof of what Booth felt for me, and what I felt for him, was growing. I remember something my mother had used to tell me when I was a little girl... a child conceived in love will always be loved and cherished. I never put much value in that saying before I suddenly found myself as 1/2 that contributor to a child that had been conceived. And, despite everything that had happened... our child *was* conceived in love. I just had to make Booth remember that he used to feel something for me that wasn't related to negative emotions... the most prominent of which was anger.

Then, of course, there was the second reason I don't think I would have changed telling Booth about the baby when I did... my father. Although I did want to follow his advice... there was still that look in his eyes when he waved goodbye at the graveyard. If I didn't make things right... or start to make things right between us... well... I didn't really want my father doing anything to Booth that might cause all three of us more difficulty. I needed to tell Booth... tell him and then eventually let him know what my father knows so he can at least be forewarned... just in case. Not that I think my dad would do anything to Booth... not really. But even still...

I did feel slightly guilty for laying to bombshell on Booth like this given he was tired and drunk and not processing information at his normal rate... but what was done was done. Now we would have to deal with it.

He just sat there for a moment, holding the image in his hand, staring at it. It was like his eyes saw one thing, but his brain was trying to convince him that it was, in reality, something else.

Ha. Good luck with that.

* * *

><p>"This has your name on it," Booth said, disbelief evident in his voice.<p>

Brennan nodded. "Yes, 'Temperance Brennan', that would be me."

"And it has this week's date on it," Booth added. "Three days ago."

Brennan nodded again. "Yes, that it does."

"And that's a picture of a…." Booth's voice trailed off. He was silent for a moment, struggling with the words. At last, Brennan took pity on him and spoke.

"A baby, Booth," Brennan completed the sentence. "That would be a baby."

"Baby?" Booth mouthed back. His brows furrowed in confusion once more. "A baby? Really?"

Brennan sighed, becoming annoyed by his denial. "Yes, Booth, for the final time. A baby. My baby. *Our* baby."

A hand coming up to his head, he absentmindedly racked his fingers through his hair, the confusion still evident on his face, Booth asked, "Our baby? Our baby. *Our*... *baby*."

He kept repeating it, almost trying to make it make more sense in the verbal repetition.

"Yes, *our* baby," Brennan repeated softly. She then said, "You okay, Booth?"

He looked up at her, a dazed look still on his face. "Yeah... I- I, just... I- a baby?"

Brennan laughed a bit. "Yes, Booth. A baby."

He nodded... and then said... "But… how?"

Brennan narrowed her eyes as she said, "Considering the fact that you are already a father, I assumed you were well aware of how Parker was conceived."

"I- Bones... what?" Booth said. "Of course I know how Parker was conceived. It's just that this... I-" He paused, eyes traveling up and down her form. Something clicked in his head as he said, "Wait, you're not showing yet."

Brennan shook her head. "No, I'm not."

"So that means… *this*…" he nodded at the sonogram image that he still held in his hand. "So that means *this*… *this* didn't happen in Afghanistan?"

Brennan shook her head again. "Nope, it sure didn't."

For a split second, Brennan thought Booth was going to say something that she was going to, albeit reluctantly, have to kick him in the balls for… it had always bothered her that her father had done that to him. It was a cheap shot... and, beside, now that Brennan knew how important said body parts were to her for her own selfish needs, she didn't like the idea of causing damage to that which could bring her so much pleasure. However, if Booth made the insinuation that Brennan's pessimistic nature thought he might make after his last comment, she'd quickly reconsider her opinion... perhaps even reenact her father's move... and see if she could do one better than Max had... As it turns out, she needn't have worried when Booth spoke again.

"Then when?" Booth asked, suddenly at a loss again.

Brennan sighed a deep sigh of relief and let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Then she cocked her head at an odd angle and shrugged. "Best guess… first night we were back together in DC."

This time, it was Booth's turn to sigh. "That makes absolutely no sense."

"Why doesn't it make sense?" Brennan asked, now slightly confused herself. "My OB/GYN told me my due date's January 4th."

"Because," Booth said, confidently. "Because… you mean to tell me that after all the times that we had sex in Afghanistan—"

"93," Brennan offered.

"What?" Booth's head snapped up at her interruption. "93 what?"

"We had sex… 93 times… in Afghanistan," Brennan said, eying him cautiously.

Incredulously, Booth stammered, "You actually kept count?"

Brennan shrugged. "It wasn't that hard… seven weeks… usually twice a day except the week I had my menstrual cycle… a couple or three times when we unexpectedly found ourselves in the mood, minus the two days each week you were gone on maneuvers or I was working on a story... It wasn't really that difficult to keep track of…."

He still stared at her.

"What, Booth? You know I have a very good memory, and details like this are important things for me to remember, so I did."

Booth sighed. "Okay, okay… fine. Then, you mean to tell me that we had sex 93 times in a two-month period in Afghanistan… in an active warzone… and you didn't get pregnant?"

"That's correct," Brennan said.

"And, yet, you and I are back in DC for one night-"

"Technically, we had both been back in DC for some time before that night," Brennan interjected.

Booth shot her a look that quelled any more interruptions as he continued. "We're back in DC for one night, " Booth repeated. "And you're telling me that I knocked you up on the first go?" Booth asked, disbelief still evident in his voice.

Her first instinct was to remind him that there was no way to determine which specific instance of their multiple couplings from those three days back actually resulted in the conception of their child. However, instead, for some reason, Brennan's hormones chose that moment to kick in again and anger flared as she pointed at him and said, "It's not like this is all my fault, Booth. If you and your goddamn super sniper sperm weren't so effective, you wouldn't have knocked me up in the first place."

"I thought you were on the pill," Booth said. "That's what you told me."

"And I was... still was up until three days ago, actually. I hadn't stopped taking it... I didn't lie to you about being on the pill... and I wasn't trying to trap you into any relationship because of a baby, by the way, just in case you're thinking that."

"I never said that you'd do that," Booth said softly.

"Yeah, well, just in case you were going to say something at a later moment... that was a peremptory statement," Brennan muttered.

"Even still, I don't understand how, if you were on the pill... how did this happen?"

"It's not like we used a back up method, Booth," Brennan said. "Neither one of us really liked using condoms even when we did have the option."

"Yeah, well, it's a preference I have if I think I'm in a committed relationship with my girlfriend and if pregnancy and STDs aren't a concern," Booth said. "A preference which, as you said, you shared, by the way."

Brennan sighed. "Look, Booth, we both know that the only contraceptive that is 100% effective is abstinence. I'm not going to lie... that case that ended up being the Civil War deserter... you remember we got called out by Sully that morning?"

"Yes," Booth said tentatively.

"Normally I take my pill in the morning with my breakfast. I didn't get a chance to eat breakfast because I was rushing to the apartment to change and meet you guys at the crime scene. I was late taking the pill from my normal time by maybe... four or five hours. That's it. According to all the pharmaceutical research, such a deviation shouldn't have been enough to result in the failure of the contraceptive... but, I don't know what else could have caused it... all I can say is that if you think about the aggressive sex up against the door, and then we adjoined to your bed for another go… before we had repeat performances three AND four, as initiated by you, when we woke up..."

At this, Booth raised his hands in argument. "Hey, now, you were the one who brought up the shower that morning!"

"And you followed me into the bathroom," Brennan retorted.

"And you were the one that pulled me into the bathtub!" Booth countered.

"You didn't seem to mind at the time," Brennan said.

"I didn't… I don't…." Booth said. He took a breath as Brennan stared at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Brennan said immediately and looked away. She was quiet for a moment before she said, "You know... we were together a lot that day... and the two days after it."

Booth didn't look at her, but said softly, "I remember."

"It... since we were together so much... it could have happened at any time during those three days."

"Those three days were three of the best days of my life," Booth suddenly confessed. He looked up at her and said somewhat unexpectedly open in his confession, "I was so happy to see you... to see that you hadn't forgotten me... that we were going to try to give things a chance like we said."

"You thought Andi wasn't going to keep her word when we left Afghanistan?"

Booth was silent. Brennan took that as an answer. She looked away, sad.

Finally Booth spoke. "And... it was great to know that the feelings I had for Andi seemed to have been just as strong here as they were in the desert. There was a small part of me, you know, that was afraid that I only felt that way about her because we were away from everything and everyone... but that first night... when I saw her... saw *you* standing there in the doorway... everything I felt was still there, and, if anything, was even stronger then I thought it would be."

"Yeah, well," Brennan said softly, "It was a lot of sex statistically-speaking... a lot of sex to dodge from a contraceptive point of view..."

"Were *you* happy to see me to see me that night?" Booth asked.

"Of course!" Brennan said, her head jolting up. "I- I actually came over that night to tell you the truth. That's what my grand plan had been. But, then, you opened the door and smiled that smile at me, and then... everything happened so fast."

"I... I couldn't help myself," Booth admitted. "You were there... and you were looking at me like you do... and I wanted you. I wanted you so badly in so many different ways. When I pulled you to me, I thought you might say something. And I would have stopped if you had. But, you didn't and so I didn't. And... I know I never really gave you a chance to say anything, but I figured we had all the time in the world to talk... after, you know?"

Brennan nodded. "I- yes... I know what you mean. The only thing I don't understand is why you didn't think I'd be happy to see you. I mean, why wouldn't I be? I finally, *finally* could see you and look and smile at you like I'd been wanting to for weeks... and touch you. You have no idea how hard it was to be near you and not be able to do any of those things knowing what it was like to have actually done them."

"Oh, I wouldn't?" Booth shot back, a touch of anger suddenly coming into his voice. Brennan then realized what she had said and bit her lip.

She turned away again and said nothing. The pair were quiet for a long time.

At last, Booth said, "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing, Booth. Nothing," came the sharp retort.

As Brennan's body stiffened, Booth noticed, and he was suddenly confused as to how he had gone from the one being on the offensive to asking Brennan what was wrong.

"Oh, no," Booth said. "I know that tone, and I know that look now. That's the 'Bones-is-super-pissed-at-me-because-of-something-I-did' look."

"You didn't do anything," Brennan said evenly.

"Maybe not… but you think I did, so tell me… what did I do now?" Booth asked.

Brennan swung her head around and eyed him. Her lips pinched but she said nothing. Still, Booth caught her meaning.

"So you *are* saying this is my fault," Booth said, now a tad of aggressive defensiveness beginning to tinge his drunken tone again.

"No. I am not blaming you," Brennan said at last. "I just find that I am uncertain how to proceed now."

"What?"

Brennan eyed Booth and said, "I find I have experienced a wide range of emotional states tonight, Booth... from the moment I saw you smiling *my* smile at Hannah in the Founding Fathers-"

"Wait, what do you mean 'your' smile?"

"You have a smile," Brennan said. "A smile that, prior to tonight, I had only seen you smile at me. Beginning with that moment, through our argument and the revelation of my pregnancy, I find I am not sure what to do next given the fact that you are not functioning at your fullest capacity for reasoning and making long term decisions."

"Why do you need to make any decisions right now?" Booth said after a moment. "That wasn't a part of what you said you had planned earlier. What was it you wanted...? We've already talked, yelled, you cried... you gave me the sonogram image, which is what I assume is what you wanted to give me... what else is there that needs to be done right now?"

"I- I..." Brennan bit her lip, recalling the last thing she had said. _Fantastic make-up sex_.

"Booth?"

"What, Bones?"

"Did you really intend to fuck Hannah tonight? Right here... on this couch?"

Narrowing her eyes, Booth said, "And if I was?"

"Setting aside the fact that such a decision make me want to physically vomit... I find myself wanting to know why you wanted to do that."

Booth laughed a nervous laugh at that as he said, "Come on, Bones. Why does anyone want to get laid?"

"To ease tension and overwhelming stress caused by an intense emotional turmoil," Brennan said, thoughts beginning to swirl in her head. "A release."

"Yeah, I guess," Booth said. "It doesn't hurt that sex feels good either."

Brennan eyed him. "Yes, it does."

Booth sighed, "But it's not like that's going to happen now since you kicked Hannah out, so it seems like I'm out of luck on that one."

"Which I was absolutely correct to do and justified in doing, Booth," Brennan said, the gleam that had crept into her eyes getting brighter. Brennan took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on her emotions. Seeing Commando Barbie TV Reporter Extradonaire sprawled all over a drunken Booth when Brennan had not had sex in over three months had done little to quell her raging emotions. Booth continuing to taunt her merely fueled the anger she was feeling. Her decision made, she took a predatory step towards Booth.

"You asked me if I blamed you for getting me pregnant, Booth, and the answer is no, because I don't think there is any blame to be assigned... not about that." She nodded and then said, "Assigning blame," Brennan said through a very measured voice, "is really the last task that I now have in mind to complete at the moment." She nodded at him and said, echoing his earlier words, "You wanted proof of a miracle, Booth. Well... I think you have it."

Her words distracted him for a few seconds as he said, his tone changing once again, with a bit of wonder creeping into it as he glanced down at the ultrasound photo again and said, "My child… you think that you carrying my child is a miracle?"

"Of a kind, yes."

Booth took this in for a moment. It was then that he sensed more than saw any direct evidence of the shift in Brennan's bearing. Not certain how to respond, he stalled for time as he said, "What is it that you do have on your mind right now, Bones?"

"I find myself attempting to determine a way in which your original goal... and my original goal might still be able to be achieved given the current situation, Booth."

"Oh?" He raised his head to look at her in curiosity, but he was already too late.

Her actions were so fast, even in his inebriated state, Booth was surprised at how quickly she moved. He was thrown back into the couch, and suddenly Brennan was straddling him, grinding her hips so hard and fast that Booth's body began to respond before his brain had caught up with what was happening.

Grabbing fists of his shirt in her hands, Brennan pulled him to her and muttered, "We haven't had sex in twelve weeks, Booth. Before that, I got very used to us having sex on a regular basis... to achieving... release, as you said. I like how you make me feel. Combined with the fact that my hormones are quite out of balance, and have been exacerbated by the adrenaline my body created in my anger at seeing you with Hannah, I find that the one thing I'm thinking about is physical release. So, if you're bound and determined that you wanted to get laid tonight on this couch, who am I to stop you? You want to get laid, fine, that sounds like a good idea to me. However, I am going to have to insist on one slight alteration in your plan. If anyone is going to fuck you senseless tonight, it's not going to be that goddamn Baghdad Barbie wannabe. It's going to be me."

* * *

><p>Too alpha-female? Nope, I didn't think so either.<p>

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	22. Ch21:What the Penalty Is

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 21 – "What the Penalty Is"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "Right. What I want you to do is take off your glasses, shake out your hair and say 'Mr. Booth, do you know what the penalty is for an overdue book?'"

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

Okay... I suddenly found myself in one of those unique situations. In the space of a few moments... Booth and I had gone from talking about our baby... to, albeit in a round about manner... talking about sex. And, during that shift in topics... I suddenly realized how very, very much I wanted Booth. I mean, I never stopped wanting him. The physical attraction between us was never a problem... going back to that very first day at American... in that lecture hall... there has always been a spark between us on the physical level. But, now... now... thinking about how long it had been since he'd looked at me like he had tried to look at Hannah not all that long before... and Hannah.

Fucking Hannah. Fucking Hannah... Burley. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He was smiling *my* smile at her... and I felt like I was losing something that I had to get back. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I had to make him realize that that smile was *mine*, and no one, NO ONE... lest of all Hannah-fucking-Burley was going to take it away from me. It was mine... and I wanted it back... and I wanted it now. I wanted what I wanted… and I was going to get it. I know, I know... after everything that had happened between us... mostly as a result of me being selfish... you would think that I might have learned my lesson. But... we had wasted enough time. It wasn't just about what I wanted... it was what Booth wanted... and, I think, both of us wanted the same thing that night. Release, right? Physical release?

At least... that's what I kept telling myself. But, the fact that I could still smell Hannah on his shirt, her perfume of some type of white lilies and... musk maybe... it really was a cloying scent... and I knew it wasn't Booth's smell... too feminine. It was faint, but I could smell it on him. It was her... her tainted smell clinging to him... well, that merely infuriated me even more than I had been (tough thing to do, I know) and made me more resolute in my decision. I had to reclaim what was mine. I had to take back what she had tried to take away from me. I had to let him know that I was in this for the proverbial long haul. I wasn't going to give him up. He was mine... and I had to show him that... remind him of that... somehow.

Add in the fact that he already had this adorable confused male look on his face... a face that was absent of the anger that had been holding me back for so long now, and, well, I pounced. He was in that black button down shirt of his... the one that makes his eyes look even more dangerous (in a good way, not the angry/hurtful way that I seem to bring out in him) - no, this was the suave, sexy, charming, dangerous-as-hell Booth that I was talking about. The one that *could* scare me. Anyway... he was wearing that shirt... and jeans. I'm fairly certain he was in jeans... and his hair had this mussed quality about it that I've always loved... wait, was his hair all messed up like that because that was how he had styled it or because Hannah's hands had been running through it?

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

...

Ummm... yeah... I can only claim a hormone surge as a final defense.

I moved. I moved fast. And I kept working to see how far I could get before he stopped me. I was fairly certain if I could get his shirt off... see his chest... I think that I would be able to get us past the point of no return. But, if he stopped me before that... I'm not certain what I would have done.

Fortunately, I had Booth on his back and was stripping him of his button down and undershirt before he even knew what had hit him.

* * *

><p>The tequila currently warming his blood also *had* had the consequence that it slowed his brain's normal reaction time. Of all the nights to chose to get drunk, this had turned out to be one of the worse given how much he really needed to be level-headed and clear-minded to handle what Brennan kept throwing at him. However, by the time that Brennan went from metaphorically throwing pieces of information at him... to physically jumping on him... the truth of the matter was that Booth wasn't really *all* that drunk. The argument... seeing her kick Hannah out of the apartment literally... her little reproductive bombshell... all that information had had a rather cumulative sobering effect on Seeley Booth. Thus, when Brennan started to act... he wasn't necessarily distracted andor diverted by the alcohol... but, instead, by what his mind was still trying to process. Not necessarily the big news... no, that would come later. No, it was the small things that he was distracted by...

There was something about seeing Brennan angry… no, the current state she was in went beyond anger. She was pissed off… she was positively livid… when she showed up in the apartment when he had been making out with Hannah on the couch, the look he had seen in her eyes was the most angry Booth had ever seen her. And that included discussions with serial killers, kidnappers, rapists, pedophiles, drug lords, Latino gang leaders, abusive parents... hell, even her own father. It was definitely the most angry he had ever seen her with him. When she had first entered the apartment, for a split second, Booth had been torn between feeling indignant, stunned, and relieved... because... he had missed her. Not the Dr. Temperance Brennan he had spent the last three months working with - no, that person he had seen each week. No... he had missed *her*... this woman. His Bones.

And that anger, combined with the fact that he *had* missed her... and some small corner of his brain was still processing the fact that *his* child was growing inside her, suddenly flicked a switch in his reasoning pattern. Perhaps it was when Brennan started using words like 'fuck' and 'fucking'… of course, as Andi, in Afghanistan, she had often used much more vulgar vocabulary when the situation called for it. However, even after three months, his mind was still having trouble reconciling Andi's actions and behaviors with the fact that in reality, Andi Anderson was actually Dr. Temperance Brennan. Bones, his partner, the woman he had loved for years, did not use words like 'fuck.' She never had, never would. More importantly, Bones would not be the one to not only be initiating sex with him (okay, maybe once upon a time she would have, but not after almost six years), but taking the aggressive, dominant role? No... he'd always imagined them as being fairly equal in bed... not necessarily one or the other trying to seize control. Why he thought this... given how much competition drove each one of them outside the bedroom - and not just with each other - wasn't quite logical. But, that was what he had always thought. It appeared to be yet another thing he had gotten wrong. If there was one thing that the last three and a half months it had taught him... it was that perhaps he didn't know Brennan as well as he thought he did... and he would never underestimate her again.

That was the last conscious thought that Booth had as he suddenly realized something else...

'_Wait… what happened to my shirt?' _Booth thought as he then realized Brennan was ruthlessly working to divest him of his jeans at the moment his brain had registered the results of her earlier handiwork on his upper body.

Obviously, something was driving Brennan… and she, yet again, was the one who had seized control of the situation. It gnawed at Both, gnawed at his masculinity just a bit too much to continue to let her get away with whatever it was she thought she was doing even though he wanted it... wanted her. Yes, they both wanted the same thing... but how they ended up getting that one thing and under whose terms... that suddenly became of supreme importance to Booth. He loved her, he missed her, and now they were having a baby. Obviously, he was going to forgive her... but not without exacting some type of penalty... and reasserting his place in their relationship. Happy with his decision, Booth's brain suddenly his brain stopped trying to analyze… and he did what he had always done best. He acted on his gut instincts from that point forward. Equilibrium *would* be reestablished between them... one way or another.

Grabbing Brennan's wrists in a tight grasp, Booth's eyes narrowed as he said, "I don't know what I'm going to have to do to drill this fact through that very thick skull of yours, babe... but you don't get to call the shots here, Bones."

"Says who?" Brennan volleyed back, taking advantage of the fact that she still could move the lower portion of her body. Her hips again began to grind into his thigh, further inflaming the already prominent evidence that if she really wanted to be fucked, fucking was something Booth's body was more than capable of doing at the current moment. He sighed, holding her arms tight... and sighed again in a bit of physical desperation.

"Stop doing that for a minute... *please*," Booth said.

"Make me," Brennan said evilly.

"I'm going to, Bones," he said... a hint of something coming into *his* voice at last. He look the moment to yank her forward, and he kissed her. He couldn't really help himself. This was the first time in a long time that he had initiated physical contact between them... and it did have the desired effect. Brennan stopped moving... surprised as she was suddenly being kissed by Booth. Not her kissing Booth and him responding. Him kissing her, and proving, beyond a shadow of a doubt that, yes, he did still want her. He wasn't the type of man that could kiss a woman like that if the want wasn't real.

He pulled back then... stopping the kiss. Brennan moaned in protest and tried to reach forward to continue. He shook his head and said, "No."

"But," Brennan whimpered.

"No... I... see, Bones? You're not the one calling the shots here... I am... because I say so," Booth said.

"You are... so... completely... irrationally... MALE," Brennan spat at him.

Booth laughed. "Yeah, babe, I guess I am... and we both know you'd be lying if you said that you didn't love that about me."

"Pffft."

That one sound, that one tiny dismissive and flippant sound, irritated Booth. He quickly shifted so that he was pushing Brennan down into the couch and said, "Stop doing that."

"Stop doing what?"

"Stop trying... to instigate me into doing what you want me to do, Bones."

"I'm not..."

She punctuated her uncompleted sentence with a slight thrust of her pelvis towards Booth. He almost felt his eyes roll back into his head, but held firm. He was now pressing both her arms to her sides and shook his head. "Yes, you are. And-"

Yes, he was ready, willing, and able. And as she kept doing that thing she did that had always driven him crazy with her pelvis, combined with what was left of the tequila/Scotch haze that currently had enveloped his brain, Booth was having a hard time remembering why he shouldn't comply with her wishes. However, Brennan's challenging tone reminded him.

"I'm not-"

"Yes, you are..." Booth grunted, at last. "But, you don't get…" He shifted slightly to better limit Brennan's ability to basically begin to dry hump him... and hopefully find a bit of breathing room to clear his head just a bit before he continued. He then said simply, "You don't get to come into my apartment, kick Hannah out,yell at me, drop this bombshell on me, come on to me, and then just assume that I'd be okay enough with everything that's just happened that I'd let you have your way with me."

Once again, Booth felt, more than intellectually knew, he had said the wrong thing. Brennan was on the offensive, he was on the defensive, and he didn't like that little turn of events. Trying his damnedest to place her on the defensive, so he could take the offensive position – the one with which he was imminently more comfortable and much preferred – Booth felt the effect of his words in her body. It appeared that he had put her on the defensive about something... but, he had over shot his goal. She had gone on the defensive... by launching an aggressive counter offensive against her.

_'Damn... what did I say that hit a nerve?'_ Booth thought. Duh... He didn't have to wait long for an answer.

Anger flared once again as Brennan shot daggers at Booth. She unexpectedly forced enough effort into wrenching her restrained hands free from Booth's strong grip. She rolled them forwards so that she was now straddling Booth's lap as she lightly pounded her clinched fists on his bear shoulder blades. His head hit the arm of the couch in reverberation a little harder than she had intended, but, for a split second, Brennan had seen red as she processed Booth's words and how hard his head hit the couch didn't really concern her at that particular moment.

"Don't!"

"Don't what?" Booth asked, suddenly confused.

Brennan, however, was still seeing red again and took no pity on him. She repeated, "Don't you dare mention that fucking bitch's name again to me," Brennan spat out. "Don't you ever DO. THAT. AGAIN. BOOTH."

She then pressed herself hard against him, her mouth reaching out to grab his with an action that bordered on violent. Shoving her tongue down his throat, Booth's mouth instantly opened wider to give her better access. She was furious and angry at him, and it made her a sight to see, a sight to feel. Booth couldn't help himself as he began to respond, tongues dueling to see who would end up in the dominant position, who would be the one to take the control they both so desperately craved.

She pulled a part long enough to wriggle her hands free of where they had been lightly scratching his back, and Brennan quickly resumed her work on removing his belt buckle. She had just gotten the top button of his jeans free when Booth grabbed her hands and rolled them over so that she was pinned underneath him again.

"Stop that," he told her. "I told you… you can't do what you've done and just expect to have your way with me."

"I said I was sorry," Brennan murmured as she reached her head up to kiss him again. This time, seeing Brennan's swollen lips, Booth instinctively moved his head to meet hers. They began to kiss again, but he eventually pulled away again and said, "Apologizing isn't good enough, Bones."

"I *am* trying to supplement my verbal apology if you would stop impeding my physical efforts to resolve this unresolved stalemate that currently exists between us, Booth," Brennan muttered.

"Trying to distract me with sex isn't going to work, Bones," Booth pleaded.

She eyed him, biting her lower lip in frustration. At this, Booth again bent to kiss her. Prying her lips open made him feel slightly better about trying to tip the scales of balance in their battle for control a bit more in his direction. He had still not let go of her hands. Brennan began to half-whimper, half-groan into his kiss as she tried to free her hands. "Booth-"

"No," he said simply. "Remember, Bones, you're not calling the shots here. I am."

"No," Brennan moaned. "No, you're not."

"Oh really?" Booth laughed.

"Nope, you're not Booth. You don't get to do anything I don't want to let you do... I, on the other hand, can do whatever I want."

"Is that so?"

Brennan's eyes, wild with many things that both delighted and infuriated Booth, growled, "Oh, yes, I can… and will."

Booth chuckled. He then nodded at her and said, "Oh, really, Bones? And remind me again who's on top of whom?"

Brennan's answer wasn't verbal. But, knowing her as he did, Booth probably should have expected it. She used her lower body strength to leverage herself against him, and in a quasi karate move, she moved them off the couch and folded into a roll. She drew Booth along with them so that he landed flat on his back with a loud *oomph*. Fortunately, the coffee table had been pushed out of the way when she had dragged Hannah out of the apartment earlier and so they had some room to maneuver. Brennan then smiled down at him evilly and said, "That would be me, Booth."

Breathing heavily, Booth swallowed and said, "I don't want to fuck you on my couch… or my apartment floor, Bones."

"Too bad," Brennan said, not catching the change in his tone of voice.

As gently as he could, Booth reached up and grabbed her hands. "Stop," he said simply.

For a moment, the change in tone finally did pierce through the fog of aggression, sexual hunger, and pure want that clouded Brennan's brain.

"But I want you," she said in a softer voice, although she had stopped moving.

Booth nodded, and said, "And I guess I should know by now that we both know that I want you too…"

"But?" Brennan prodded.

"But," Booth said. "We've fucked enough, don't you think? I think we both know that we're going to end up sleeping together tonight... you want it... and you're right... I do want it too. I want it very, very badly. And... so we both know it's going to happen tonight... even though we still have a *lot* of shit we need to work through... but, for now... I-I'd just... I'd really like to have the opportunity to make love to you, Bones. Preferably in an actual bed this time."

A new emotion flooded into Brennan's eyes. She relaxed a bit against him, some of the struggle going away. "No take backs?" she asked wearily, uncertain she was willing to believe what he was offering to her. "Really?"

Booth shook his head. "No... no take backs."

"And if I let you up, no tricks? You aren't going to go running somewhere away from me and make me chase you are you?" Brennan asked.

Booth eyed her, and said, "No... no tricks, Bones."

"Why?" she asked softly, at last, daring to ask the question that both of them needed answered.

"Because," Booth sighed. "Because... you and I... we both need to start somehow... and I- don't you want to?" He said, not quite willing to finish the thought.

"More than you know," Brennan said. "But, not if it means I'm going to have you tonight and then lose you because you realize you're still angry with me in the morning and don't want me anymore."

"I'll always want you, Bones," Booth said as he dipped to give her a kiss.

That kiss was different from the others. It was gentle... and held the promise of something new, something different. Brennan wasn't quite sure what it meant, but she was greedy for it. She reached her head down to deepen the kiss. After a moment, the two broke a part for breath. Then Brennan nodded.

"I'm going to let you up..."

"And?"

"And?" Brennan asked, in confusion. "What do you mean, 'and'?"

"And... I mean... you know if you let me up... you know that means this is it. We stop fighting, Bones. This... us... we- we stop fighting."

Brennan dared to breathe and nodded hesitantly. She then said, "I am unfamiliar with what I need to do to let you know I agree to your terms, Booth."

Booth laughed. "Well, you would give my manhood a real shot in the proverbial arm if you'd let me pick you up and carry you to bed."

"So that will mean we're not fighting anymore?"

Booth nodded his head.

"We both agree... that we want the same thing... and you... you know that I want you... and you want to be with me?"

Booth nodded again.

"So... now that we're certain we agree... and we've stopped fighting... are we negotiating anything else?" Brennan asked, curiously.

Booth shrugged. "You tell me."

Brennan countered. "If I let you up, and let you carry me, it happens on one condition."

"What?"

"Get rid of the rest of your clothes. And promise me you'll burn them later. Her foul stench is all over them, and I don't want it near us," Brennan said sharply.

Booth eyed her for a moment and said, "Just the jeans or do I need to chuck the boxers and socks too?"

"She touched the socks… did she get as far as the boxers?"

"No," Booth said truthfully.

"Then you can keep your boxers on… for a few more minutes."

"Agreed?" Booth said with a grin, the first honest and true smile that Brennan had seen him smile at her in months.

Responding with a small smile of her own, Brennan nodded.

At last, they both *had* stopped fighting each other. Detente had finally been reached.

* * *

><p>I let him up, he stripped down to his boxers, and pulled me toward him again. As it had before... it felt… wonderful. Maybe the alcohol dulled pain I would later worry about his head and back having suffered from my earlier actions. Lugging me up into his arms, pressing me towards his chest… squeezing me towards his warm musculature… one would almost think that it would have been enough to overwhelm me.<p>

But, it wasn't...

I would be lying if I said I didn't take a sniff to see if I could still smell Hannah on him. I couldn't… and that was enough.

Soon, I was distracted by Booth's lips and tongue. He had started to kiss me as he stumbled towards the bedroom. And I started to kiss him back… hands intertwined in his hair, pulling him closer towards me. We collapsed into the bed… unmade, no surprise there… and I tasted him… the Scotch... and then the faint trace of tequila… again. If it had been raining, the similarities to how he kissed me on that first night that first time would be complete.

This time, I was the one who stopped fighting him... a nod to his earlier actions. And, now that we both had stopped fighting... both acknowledged that true happiness could only come with mutual surrender... that was when something disappeared between us... and in its place was left something I can only describe as being one part pure and unadulterated passionate desire and one part pure physical satisfaction.

There was a determinedness to Booth's movements once he carried me to the bed… a fluidity… and an intent that I had never felt from him before. We had had sex a lot of times, both in Afghanistan and in DC… hell, even in this very bed. But, something… something this time was different. I don't know if it was him, or if it was me, but something *was* very different.

I'm not sure how much time passed, but Booth had his own rhythm, his own way of doing things, and I didn't try to distract or divert him from it now. There really wasn't any reason to... I just worked as hard as I could to try to keep up with him. Showing a gentleness I think I've only ever seen him use with Parker, he moved with purpose and with deliberation. My blouse was the first thing that ended up on the floor, followed by the cami tank I wore underneath it. Feeling him remove the bra was a thing of wonder… pure torture, but wonder. First one strap, then the other… the clasp coming free… and finally, finally, the bra being pushed off my chest.

He moved his head down to the valley between my breasts, and for a moment, he just rested his head there. He then pulled back and looked at me. He quirked an eyebrow and said, "These aren't like I remember."

I shrugged. "Probably because I've gone from a C to a D cup already," I murmured.

"Hmm," was all he responded. "Baby?"

I nodded. "I thought it was just water retention at first, but it hasn't gone away... so, I guess… in a way… that's your handiwork too."

He laughed at that comment. "I like."

I pulled him down, anxious to be attended to as I murmured, "I just bet you do."

The foreplay continued for some time… it was like discovering something new for him. I wasn't sure if he was looking for the changes in my body… or trying to figure out how to reconcile his images of Andi with that of Brennan… it was strange. But, what I do know is that we eventually came to a point… not long after I had shimmied out of my jeans and my panties… that I was bordering on desperation.

"Oh, please," I muttered. It was as close to begging as I had ever sounded. Especially to Booth. But, I figured if his alpha-male ego needed a boost, who was I to deny him? Especially since I was the one who found herself in dire need of what could only be achieved if Booth *didn't* stop what he was so expertly doing. And, honestly, I didn't know what else to say to convey my current mindset.

He pulled back at my plea, a smile settling over his lips.

"You say something, Bones?"

I whimpered. He had stopped moving.

"Yes," I moaned.

"And what was that again?" Booth said. He was torturing me, punishing me… he knew it… and he enjoyed it. Possibly too much.

"I said, 'please'…."

"Please what?"

"Please… don't stop moving… please don't," I groaned.

I was close… so close… and he knew it, bastard. That was why I think he initially stopped. My begging only solidified his decision.

"Are you asking me for a specific reason?" Booth murmured into my ear, coming up and spreading his warm torso parallel to mine.

"Yes," I mouthed.

"And what would that be?" Booth asked.

"Please… Booth… please," I murmured again.

"Tell me why," he whispered. "Tell me why and then I'll do whatever you want me to do."

All I heard were the words behind his whisper… *concede*… *give in*…. *give up control*. Again. Argggh. Stupid... stupid alpha-male. But... he had me... and more over, he knew he had me. I didn't really have a choice. And he took his sweet time in reminding me of it as the agony I was in grew.

And, then he did move... "Because… oh, God, Boo-oth..."

However he did what he did in that position at the particular moment, I'm not sure, but it was more torture. Pure, sweet torture.

"Tell me why," Booth whispered again.

"Because... oh," I moaned. He had started to move again. Not a lot… not even a significant amount. Just enough to remind me what I wanted from him. Bastard. I would get him back for this later... but for now, just in that moment... he had me.

"Because," I groaned.

"Because?"

"Because... oh, because I need you," I said at last.

"You're certain?"

"Yes... I need you, God, I need you... you, I need you... I want you, I need you, I want to need you... you, just you... ohhhhh, pleeeaaaassse..." I desperately pleaded.

Apparently, I *had* said the magic words. He began to move again, and this time I could only focus on the movements. Close, so close. Just a bit more… just a little more, that's all I wanted. Just a little more.

"Booth—" I moaned again. "Oh, please…"

At my last plea… he did something. Again, I'm not sure what it was. This is yet another place where my memory is a little hazy. I've never had the best recall at the best of times in that particular circumstance. With Booth... and my emotional on/off spigot blown all to hell? Forget about it. But, he did something. I know that… and whatever it was… I felt myself clench… hard… pulling him deeper into me… and the last cognizant thought I had was… '_oh, I get it now. I finally get it_.'

And… I did.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	23. Ch22:Separate Creatures, Just Circling

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Chapter 22 – "Separate Creatures, Just Circling"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "Here we are, all of us, basically alone, separate creatures, just circling each other, all searching for that slightest hint of a real connection. Some look in the wrong places, some they just give up hope because in their mind they're thinking "Oh there's nobody out there for me," but all of us, we keep trying over and over again. Why? Because every once in a while... every once in a while, two people meet and there's that spark, and yes, Bones, he's handsome and she's beautiful and maybe that's all they see at first, but making love... making love... that's when two people become one."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

It wasn't long after I stopped seeing proverbial stars that I realized somehow, in some display of what I can only imagine are some unknown and heretofore untapped super powers I have, I had rendered Booth in almost as warm and satiated pile of goo just as I currently was….

It took a while for our breathing to even out… we were sweaty from our exertions… our hearts beating fast, breaths coming shallow... At that particular moment in time, I didn't care about anything else except for being exactly where I was and who I was with... . It felt… appropriate somehow.

I was thirsty… but I didn't want to move. I can't explain it. I didn't want to lose the last vestiges of whatever it was that was still shared between us in the afterglow. We lay on our sides, spooning, and I was grateful that Booth hadn't pulled away from me yet. That feeling, that feeling of feeling him anchored deep inside me… I can't explain it… but, it is one of the most satisfying physical sensations I've ever had, and I didn't want it to suddenly disappear.

Reaching up from where his hand had rested on my hip, Booth tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. He then moved his chin to rest against my shoulder. It felt warm and alive and reassuring and... possessive. I think I liked it.

He was quiet for a moment, and then said, finally, "You know I love you."

I nodded slightly. "Yes." I was quiet for a beat before I said, "You believe me when I say I love you, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"You still angry with me?" I asked.

He sighed, but pulled me tighter to him. "Part of me, yes. But, part of me, no."

"Which part is still mad at me?"

"I don't know," Booth said. "But, now that we've just done this… it helps. You giving me back what you took from me… it helps a lot."

"I'm sorry," I breathed. "I didn't understand that part… not until you said it... and, even then, I didn't know what it meant... not until now. I am so sorry, Booth... if I had known... I-I never would have... I just... I wouldn't have... right?"

Booth nodded, languidly drawing a series of circles on my naked skin. "S'okay," he murmured again. "Like I said, this helps."

He then paused for a moment and said, "What about you? Are you still angry with me?"

It was my turn to sigh as I said, "I am always going to be self-conscious and insecure about you and blondes, Booth. I can't help it."

"I've sworn off blondes from this day forward," Booth mumbled into my ear, just a hint of humor coming into his voice. "I promise. No more. Not ever again."

"Even still," I said. "I… when I saw Hannah all over you, I could have killed her tonight, Booth."

"I know," he said truthfully. "I saw it in your eyes."

"I… I-I just… I can't help it," I confessed. "It makes absolutely no rational sense. It's not logical. But, it's how I... it's how I feel about it, you know?"

"S'okay," he mumbled again. "You'll never have another reason to doubt me for as long as we live, I swear."

I could tell, despite his best efforts to combat it given the seriousness of the situation, Booth was drifting off to sleep. "You're falling asleep on me," I murmured.

He shook his head ever so slightly. "Nope… I'm still awake. I'm just tired. Very, very tired."

I laughed. "Of course… you're watered, fed, bedded, and are all ready to hibernate."

"With a very comfortable pillow," Booth murmured as he pulled me tighter against him. "You're a very good pillow. I... I think I like this part... I like this part a lot."

"I just bet you do," I chuckled.

I could feel him fading off, the warmth of his breath coming in regular in and out motions on my cheek. He then jerked himself awake as he whispered. "Bones?"

"Hmmm?" I replied, also suddenly feeling drowsy in my contentment.

"Promise me something?"

"Sure," I said lethargically.

"Promise me, the next time I wake up, whether I'm still drunk or whether I'm hung over, you'll still be here… with me… in this bed," he said softly.

"Yes," I nodded. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here, right here, when we wake up. I promise."

"Good," he whispered. "Then I can sleep."

And he did. For a while, I stared at a spot on the wall of no particular importance. So much had happened… so much had changed. For the better, in the cumulative. But, thinking back, it was almost too overwhelming. If my life had changed this much in just a year with Booth, what would happen in another year? Two? Five... or more?

Us... a relationship... changes at work... and the baby… God… I forgot for a little bit there. The baby. I'm pregnant… *pregnant* with Booth's baby.

What does that mean?

My brain… the rational part that had been MIA since I through open the door and saw Hannah on the couch with Booth suddenly reappeared. It had a unique sense of timing. And with a calmly reassurance, it seemed to say… _don't worry, I'm here now… and we'll figure this out… all of it… just not right now. Later. We'll deal with it later... logically, rationally. Promise. But, for now, just enjoy what's there to enjoy... and sleep._

Surprisingly, the rational brain seemed to have taken on a tone that reminded me eerily of Booth's voice. However, I was pleased with the words nonetheless. Satisfied, I burrowed closer against Booth and finally allowed myself to shut my eyes and fall asleep.

* * *

><p>It was five or six hours later when Booth awoke. Neither one of the pair had moved much in the night. At some point, Booth had pulled away from her, but tenacious, Brennan had merely snuggled into him as close as she could before curling into a ball and falling asleep. Booth had wrapped himself around her ball shaped form into as tight a hold as he could, and it was in that position that he awoke - holding her, she still being there as she had earlier promised.<p>

It took him a few moments to piece together what had happened. He remembered everything… but it was a lot to process. Especially because he was torn between feeling very, very happy with the warm mass of softness radiating heat from about two inches in front of him and feeling very, very not happy with the slight pounding that was building in his head. Eventually, so that he would be able to deal with the first later, he slid out of bed to address the second immediately. As quietly as he could – which turned out to not be so quiet – he shuffled into the bathroom looking for Tylenol and a large glass of water. After he had used the facilities, Booth stumbled back into the bedroom and saw that not only had he woken Brennan up, but she was really up… as in wide awake, sheet clutched around herself self-consciously, and watching him with a critical eye.

He smiled at her, and she smiled at him, and then he nodded, "So please tell me we aren't getting up yet?"

"Not if you don't want to," came the response.

He shook his head slightly, immediately regretted it, and said, "No, the preference would be a definite 'no'."

"Then, you would prefer—"

"Sliding back into bed, pulling you as close to me as possible, and cuddling for a bit, if that's okay with you," Booth said.

Brennan looked at him for a moment, and then slowly nodded. "That would be acceptable."

As soon as she had spoken, he hopped into bed and did just as he had described. Brennan let out a sigh of contentment, allowing herself enough vulnerability to enjoy just being held.

"Does your head still hurt?" Brennan asked after a few moments.

"A bit," Booth said. "But the aspirin I took is helping... I've definitely had worse hangovers... and less pleasant ways to wake up then I had this morning."

Brennan smiled a small smile at that.

A few more moments passed by and again the pair were quiet before she spoke once more. "Booth?"

"Hmmm?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Bones. Anything," he said quietly.

"Even if it means we would be talking about it?"

Shifting a bit, Booth sat up with a nod. "We're talking about this now?"

"If we could... please?" Brennan asked timidly, shifting to sit facing him, unconsciously pulling the sheet around her torso once more. Booth eyed the move, but said nothing.

"Sure, Bones... what's your question?"

"I know this seems like a silly... stupid question to ask... because I think I know the answer... but I wanted ... to hear it from you, just to make certain-"

"Yeah?"

"Yes... and so the question I wanted to ask was... can you tell me why you were so angry for so long?"

Booth sighed. He looked away for a moment, and Brennan felt her heart skip a beat in fear. He then nodded as he looked at her again, bringing some relief to her. "That's a really complicated question to answer, you know?"

"I know," Brennan whispered. "But, please... I need to know... I need to know what I did to you."

Booth let out a long sigh again. He was silent for a moment and then began to talk slowly.

"I'm not really certain where to begin, Bones. Because… there isn't just one reason I am… was… no, am still a little bit, if we're being honest here. It… I can tell you how it started though. It actually didn't start out as anger, despite our conversation in your apartment. The first week... it was shock. Pure disbelief and shock. Not just emotional or mental shock, I was in physical shock, literally. I couldn't process everything that was happening... but I kept trying… and as soon as I started to process one piece of information, some other aspect of the whole thing with Andi and your plan came to light... and I just couldn't catch a moment to breathe. Every time I thought I could catch a breath... another bomb dropped... another little detail. Another piece of information that you had hidden from me. I felt like I was being bombarded... and, targeted... of all people, by the woman I loved... you kept lobbing these direct hits at me... both as Andi... and as Brennan. You know? I'd trusted you both... and then this happened... and I couldn't believe that I'd made the same mistake twice. And no one knew... and I couldn't tell them... I-I... I made that decision earlier on. I didn't want to involve anyone else in what was going on between us. It was between us... ours... and I wanted it to stay that way... but I couldn't yell at you either... and so I had to deal with everything all on my own. And it was overwhelming. And you know when I'm overwhelmed, I'm like you, Bones. I'm a fighter... and so I wanted to fight. And at the end of all of that... that's when the shock turned to anger. It was an act of self-preservation, I think, to keep from shutting down entirely."

"And that was when you had the argument with Rebecca?" Bones hazarded to interrupt.

Booth nodded. "I… the thing with Parker, Bones… I don't know how to explain it. But… I-I… it started off really simply. I picked him up for my weekend… and he asked if you had talked to me about planning the fishing trip with Max to Assateague Island as we were loading up the SUV. And I kinda snapped. I… you know I never yell at Parker unless he's done something… really bad. And, I'm thankful enough to know that I wasn't so far gone that I realized I couldn't yell at him for his question. But, I could go upstairs and yell at Rebecca. So I did. And that's how it started."

"Did you really… did you really say everything she said you said?" Brennan asked in a quiet voice.

Booth looked up at her, realizing what she was really asking him. He nodded slowly, feeling a wave of shame and guilt wash over him, "Yes. The closest I could come to hurting you was to shout insults at people who knew you... people who were your friends... especially when I felt that those people were the same ones who should be loyal to me first... not you... even if they didn't know what you had done, and so I wanted to hurt them too for even more disloyalty. Rebecca... Jared... Sully... even Sweets."

"And they didn't even know that they were being placed in the position to chose sides between us," Brennan said.

"No, and that made it even more frustrating," Booth said. "And Becks… she was so clueless… she… she tried to defend you, smooth things over between us when she realized that something had happened. She actually thought I was angry because I finally found out that you'd been spending all that time with Parker when I was deployed. She... told me how much leaving had effected Parker at the beginning... she wasn't trying to hurt me or make me feel guilty. We... all of us... her, me, and Parker had agreed before I had decided to re-enlist. But, things had still been tough for Parks... and she told me how good you being in Parker's life was for him while I was gone... how important you were to him... for him. How thankful she was that you were in our lives. And… I… I just couldn't hear the mother of my son singing the praises of the woman who'd just broken my heart. I.. I reacted... badly... harshly with her... I think I might have even made her cry... not an easy thing to do, you know? I mean, this was Becks we're talking about... this is the same woman who didn't even shed a tear when she rejected my proposal. I was actually the one who cried that day... but, anyway... then- then things just went from bad to worse then..."

"I wish," Brennan began. "I wish you would have come to me… and, I don't know… yelled, screamed, raged at me instead of saying those things to Rebecca and the others… instead of hurting yourself."

At that, Booth reached out a hand and took hers. He began to caress it gently as he said, "Don't you see, Bones? Even then… I couldn't do that… because… it was a choice I could make, you know? I could still choose to not yell at you… to protect you from my anger by not exposing you to it… even if you really, really deserved it… because I didn't want to hurt you in anger... with intent... because, although you hurt me as badly as you did, it wasn't done out of malicious intent. If you really knew what you were doing to me when you did it... what the ramifications were... you wouldn't have done it, right?"

Brennan shook her head slowly, a bit of hurt coming into her face as she realized that Booth had to even ask that question of her now.

He frowned, but continued. "So you see... being as angry as I was... I knew I could hurt you... as badly as you hurt me... but since I knew exactly what I would have been doing... if I did it, it would have been so much worse than anything you did."

"And you didn't want to betray me," Brennan said slowly. "Just like you promised me all those years ago."

Booth nodded. "So, that was why I stayed away. I wanted to protect you."

"But how? Why? Why would you want to do that for me after everything I'd done? I just don't understand that Booth."

"Because," Booth said quietly. "Like I said… it was for two reasons. One… I still loved you and a part of me what to protect you from... *both* of us… and two… you have to understand that I went from thinking I was in control of things… and then realized I actually had none at all. And making that choice about you… that was a way to maintain control."

"And the fight with Jared?" Brennan asked.

"Yeah, well," Booth said. "I still owe him an apology for that one… but that happened about a week after the argument with Becks… let's just say I had gone from very bad to a lot worse during that one week. And… you know my natural instinct is to fight. That's what guys like me do. But, then I couldn't, and you were gone... and I was alone. I had lost my girlfriend and my best friend in the same shitty blow. It was a lot to deal with... and I tried to deal with it as best I could... but as time passed... especially during that second week as I firmly shifted from shocked to angry, I started to drink. A lot… but, I… I refused to gamble, you know... I didn't want to give you that much significance and power over me. And, that night… with Jared… I'll spare you the play-by-play… but, finally… there was someone who was willing to fight with me… and so, I took advantage opportunity and did."

"He came by my apartment after he left you that night," Brennan said evenly. "I saw what you did to him, but not what he did to you."

Booth waved it off with a shrug. "I've had much worse… from you even... at least twice," he said with a smile, rubbing his jar slightly by way of indicating what he meant. Brennan smiled a small smile as well.

Then, Booth turned serious and looked away as he said, "That morning, though, that morning I woke up… and the thing was… the thought occurred to me… was I finally turning into my father?" He looked up and gazed at Brennan directly in the eyes and said, "That… *that* thought scared the shit out of me, Bones. And… from that point on… I decided it was better to feel nothing than anger. I wanted to be numb. I… I never wanted Parker to look at me like he did that weekend after I fought with Becks. He looked at me like I used to look at my father when I was afraid I was going to say something that would set him off. You know I've never raised a hand to Parker… but, that look he gave me… it was eerie. So, that was when I decided I had to stop feeling. Numbness was a preferable state. I had to stop thinking about how angry I was at you… particularly for turning me into this weak shell of a man… I… I-I've been many things in my life, Bones, but I've never used the word 'weak' to describe myself."

"You're not," Brennan instantly defended. "You're the strongest man I know."

"Yeah, well, after that fight, I started to think… what you did to me... somehow it had turned me into this weak man... this person that I didn't know… and so that was when I started to shut down. I was still drinking… more to pass the time than anything else. I threw myself into work… and tried to forget that I was so angry at you for so many things... but, that was a lot easier said then done, because as I pushed the anger away, I realized that I then had finally started to try to analyze what had happened between us. Make sense of it, you know? I… I began to question how could you do all those things if you were the woman I thought I knew... and then I started to question my perception of things in the world... my ability to judge people... and that made me even more pissed off at you for making me second-guess myself. I hate second-guessing myself. You know me, Bones... make a decision, the best one you can, but once the choice is made, it's done. And, so, in the end, I just started to feel even angrier, and I had to repress those new feelings… and it was a nasty, vicious cycle."

She looked away from him, a tear slipping down her cheek as she began to comprehend the damage she had done to this man… the father of her child, the man she loved. Booth, very gently reached forward and pulled her to him.

"Hey now."

"I am so sorry… so, so sorry, Booth," Brennan whispered through the sobs she was trying to hold back.

"It's okay, Bones, it's all right," he murmured into her hair. "Now you see why I didn't want to tell you?"

Brennan pulled back from his embrace and shook her head vehemently as she wiped the tears away. "But, I need to know!" She then said in a lower voice, "If it helps at all, I spent our time a part questioning the corner stone of my thought processes as well."

"Oh?"

"Yes… for quite a number of weeks, I found myself questioning how intelligent I could actually be if I was dumb enough to make such a huge mistake... such a big *series* of mistakes with you."

"Yeah, well, we all have our off moments, Bones," Booth laughed. He then continued. "I was so angry, for so many different reasons, but all the reasons kept coming back to you and the choices you made without consulting me. What happened between us... Parker... the liaison position at the Bureau... my relationship with my brother... everything. My world turned upside down... again. And this time, it took more than three of your days to make it right side up again. As a matter a fact, I don't think it righted itself until last night."

Brennan smiled as she recalled the story she had told him as Andi... about perceptions needing three days to alter. At the time, she had been referencing the period in her life that began the night before she was supposed to leave for Maluku. She hadn't told him that specifically, even though she had been thinking it. It was very pleasing to her that he remembered that minute detail. Reaching out to him again, they held each other for a few moments in silence before either one spoke again.

"Booth?" Brennan asked at last, breaking the silence, beginning her questiion nervously, tentatively. "Are you glad I came here last night?"

Booth was silent for a moment and then said, "At the time you interrupted Hannah and I? Hell no... I won't lie to you. For the first time in months, I was finally starting to feel something that wasn't exactly a negative emotion—"

"And then I showed up," Brennan said. Booth nodded. Brennan took another breath and said, "You know, Booth, when I saw Hannah and you in the bar... I just couldn't let her have you... even if you weren't exactly mine to have... and so that was why I followed you. I just didn't... I couldn't... I didn't want to see you hurt yourself even more by making a mistake with her because of the emotional state you were in due to my betrayal."

"It had nothing to do with the fact that she was an attractive blonde woman who had an interest and me and you felt threatened by her?" Booth asked with a knowing look in his eye.

Brennan emphatically shook her head. "No, none whatsoever." She stopped and said, "I'm sorry if you are annoyed that I interrupted you and Hannah, but it really was for the greater good."

Booth narrowed his eyes as he said, "You didn't let me finish, Bones."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "When you showed up... and I saw you... yes, I was annoyed that you kicked Hannah out at first, but then I was with you and what I felt with you was so much better... and now I'm glad... so *very* glad that you came here last night."

Booth hugged her in another tight embrace. They sat there like that for a time before he said, "You know… I didn't know what to do after the stages of grief set in... went from shock to anger... and somehow never really moved past anger... because without you... there wasn't anything else. And so I just stayed mired in this limbo... until Hannah called me and asked me out for a drink since she was in town and didn't know anyone. I still don't know how she even got my number. But, I am so, so happy you followed us last night. It—it finally broke the stalemate between us."

"We were at a stalemate?" Brennan asked. "I was unaware of this when I acted, initially, as I did last night."

"Well, yeah, Bones… why do you think we hadn't talked for months?"

"Because I was giving you enough time to deal with your emotions that were caused by my betrayal."

Booth shook his head. "I… if you had tried to speak to me in probably any other way but the way you did last night… I probably wouldn't have given you the chance to even talk, Bones."

"Why?"

"Because… now… as of last night… I had started to make peace with some things… but way deep down… the anger I felt.. feel towards you… it doesn't mean I still wasn't going to be stubborn about it. I thought the anger was all I had left... the only thing I could make the decision to hold on it. And I didn't want to let you take that away from me too when I'd already lost so much because of the choices you had made. I didn't want to concede to you... to me, that was like letting you think that you had won, and my pride just wouldn't let me do that."

"I thought you said we weren't a contest, Booth?"

"Now, I never said that," Booth said with a small laugh. "Experiment? No... definitely not... But a contest... of wills? Oh, yeah. That? Definitely. It's always been that between us... since day one, Bones. Since day one."

"And if you let me make things right between us, that would have been the equivalent of letting me win?"

He nodded.

"And that was bad?"

"From my severely deflated male ego, yeah, Bones. You did a hell of a number on it, you know... probably the worst series of blows it's ever taken from a woman... including... well, including when Rebecca, knowing she was pregnant with my child, told me she didn't want to marry me."

"She rejected the most important parts of you that you were willing to give her by doing that," Brennan said quietly.

"Yeah," Booth said. "That's what I thought... still do, to be honest."

"I-I... I didn't mean to reject you, Booth," Brennan said softly. "That night at the Hoover? When you asked me? I... didn't reject you... what you were offering me... I didn't do it deliberately... or with intent."

"I know, Bones... and, again, to be honest... that's part of the reason why I'm here with you right now... and not her," Booth said. "You were… *are* worth the second chance."

"And what's the second reason?" Brennan asked curiously.

"Because," Booth said, looking straight into her eyes. "You're you... and Rebecca wasn't."

"I don't know what that means," Brennan said.

Booth laughed. "Yes, I think you do, Bones. You're just scared of what it means."

Brennan was quiet for a moment and nodded. "Yet another thing I can't control or completely understand... what I am to you... and why."

"Well, that's a part of loving someone, Bones. Like you said that night... love isn't logical or rational, and it doesn't have to make sense. It just is... and the person you love... You can't control them... only place your trust in them," Booth said.

"A trust which I viciously abused," Brennan said. "You- I asked you once if you would betray me, Booth. And while I kept waiting for you to break your word, I did to you the very thing I was terrified of happening to me."

Booth shrugged. "Then I guess it's a good thing that I've got a thicker skin then you do."

Brennan's eyebrows arched in confusion. "I see no evidence that your epidermis..." She stopped and smiled at him with a nodded, "Too literal again?"

He nodded with a small laugh. "But, that's one of the things I love about you, so that's okay."

Brennan leaned back into him. He held her for a while and finally she spoke again and said, "Booth?"

"Hmmm?"

"What happens next?"

"We'll make this work... because that's what two people who love each other do. Somehow, someway, we'll make it work."

"And then what?"

"And then? Then—then… we'll be happy. You… me… Parker… and the baby."

Brennan turned to him and said, "Even after all I've done to you… after everything that's happened… you still want to be with me… with the baby? You know I won't do anything to shut you out of it's life… but you don't have to be with me just to be with our child, Booth. You know that, right?"

Sighing, Booth said. "I hate it when you sell yourself short, Bones, I really do."

"I don't know—"

She was silenced as Booth bent his head and kissed her. He then pulled back and smiled. "Bones?"

"Yes, Booth?"

"Shut up for a second, huh?"

Brennan nodded.

"A family… our family… it's like I said… me… Parker… the baby… and you. Without you, it's not whole. Understand?"

Brennan was silent for a moment before she nodded. Booth smiled and then pulled her tightly into another hug.

* * *

><p>I felt better now that we had talked... there was still so much we needed to discuss. However, when he pulled me into his embrace again, we laid down on the bed to cuddle once more, I knew it was going to be okay. A start had been made... a beginning. We began by taking the first step, and I felt better than I had in a very, very long time as I tried to drift off to sleep again in Booth's arms.<p>

* * *

><p>It was Booth, apparently more awake than Brennan as the moments ticked past, who spoke first, and somehow managed to echo what Brennan's earlier thoughts had said. "It's a lot to process."<p>

"I know," she whispered, not quite awake, not quite asleep.

"But, we will," he said.

"I know that too," came the response.

"Bones, I—" Booth's voice trailed off. He took a breath and said, "I need to tell you something."

He felt her stiffen, shift fully from the drowsy lethargy that had settled over her mind to alert wakefulness, remaining quiet the entire time, waiting for him to continue confessing whatever it was that he needed to tell her. Because, that was what his tone felt like. Booth had a confession of some kind to make to her. A small knot twisted in her stomach, as Brennan quietly hoped... wished... prayed even, that whatever he had to confess wouldn't shatter her recently embraced status as a strong non-impervious substance.

* * *

><p>I wasn't sure what I was expecting Booth to say. I knew he wasn't having regrets… a massive hangover, sure. Regrets about us… our baby? Never. I was confident in that. But, pessimists always expect bad news. It's just how we are.<p>

Thus, when he opened his mouth to speak, I have to admit that I was genuinely surprised and somewhat confused at his next words.

"You aren't as good an actress as you think you are," Booth said at last.

Sitting up, I pulled away from him, and turned to face him. I looked into his eyes, those wonderfully warm brown eyes, and I cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning," Booth took a breath and said, "I… I thought it was only fair, since we've been on this grand confessing spiel... to let you know… that you aren't as good an actress as you think you are, Temperance."

At that, I pointed a finger at him. "I hate to digress," I said. "But I need to stop you right there."

"What?"

"Please don't call me Temperance," I said. "It just sounds too… weird coming from you."

"What? I've called you 'Temperance' before, and you've never said anything."

"Yeah," I nodded. "Like maybe a dozen times in the entire seven or eight years you've known me. And, usually it was always in front of other people... when bad shit was happening. I-I-... it just doesn't feel right."

"Even in bed?" Booth asked innocently.

I leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek with a smile. "When we're in bed, you can call me just about anything you want… Bones, baby, babe, honey, sweetie, sugar, darlin'… come to think of it, that last one sounds kind of sexy. But, no, you calling me Temperance… even in bed, it just feels… off."

"So, that strikes out all the derivatives, too, huh?" Booth asked.

I nodded. "Everyone else but you calls me Temperance… or Tempe. I think I can count on my two hands the number of times you've actually used my name to my face over all the years I've known you... and well, I like that you don't normally."

"So, we're back to 'Bones'," he replied.

"Yes," I said, nodding. "Please?"

"Hey, if that's what you want, no problem... baby." He smiled, looked at me with his grin getting a bit larger... paused for a moment, and then said, "What if I said I wanted you to call me Seeley in bed?"

"I thought you hated that," I said. "You told me you did... and the only people who call you that that I know are Rebecca and Cam... even Jared's broken down and has been reverting to calling you just about anything in front of me *but* 'Seeley'."

"Well... like I told you that day... I do hate it... normally. But... if I asked you to call me that... would you?"

"You really want me to?"

"And if I did? Would you?" he asked.

I narrowed my eyes and said, "Do you?"

"Maybe," he said, a hitch of something coming into his voice, making it just a bit more gravelly than normal. "I'm not certain," he murmured. "I may need to hear you say it to see if it's weird or not."

"Say it... or moan it?" I asked suspiciously.

He narrowed his eyes in a predatory manner, but said nothing. I knew where this was going to go quick if I didn't find out what Booth had been referencing in a very short time window given that change in his tone.

He interrupted my thoughts and said, taking a scoot closer towards me. "I think I might like to see how it sounds when it's moaned… just to be certain... you know... one definitive way or the other."

"I thought you said we shouldn't experiment," I said, purposely seeing if he'd take the bait.

"No, I said *we* weren't an experiment, Bones. I never said anything about *us*... together... conducting one..."

He leaned in to kiss me, and as gently as I could, I placed my palm on the middle of his chest and said with a shrug, "Then, sure… like I said, anything you want…"

He moved in to kiss me again, but I held firm and dodged my head slightly so that he missed my lips and kissed my cheek instead. "—But, first, tell me what you meant when you said I'm not as good an actress as I think I am."

Booth sighed. His hand came up to his head, as he ran his hand through his hair, a sign I was now recognizing as a tell… a unique tell… indicating when he was frustrated or annoyed with me… or something related to me.

He nodded and then said, "In Afghanistan… now, I'm not saying I knew for certain… but…"

"But, what?"

"But," Booth said. "There were moments… not a lot, but a few… you would look at something… not me… it was always something tangible… like your notepad when you'd begin scribbling notes for your story… or the way you'd turn your nose up at some of the meals in the mess hall… they reminded me a lot of how you'd act in the lab… in the diner. And… I'm just saying… there were moments that I started to wonder."

I gasped and turned on him wide-eyed. "You knew!"

Booth shook his head furiously. "No! No, I didn't say that. Did I say that? No. All I said was, at times… Andi just reminded me a lot of Brennan."

"You did know!" I repeated, incredulously.

"No," Booth said. "I... at least, I didn't know for sure. I mean... I did talk to Angela and Hodgins a couple of times... tried to see if they knew where you were. As far as they knew, you were happily playing in the dirt in Makuku."

"And so that's the people you were using your extra sat phone time with," I mused, thinking that one more loose end was neatly tied up.

Booth shrugged. "A couple of times... I also talked with Cam... and Caroline actually. Everyone except for Caroline all emphatically told me.. granted it was in a vague way... but they led me to believe you were in Indonesia... except for Caroline... who was really, really vague. She was usually always cutting our call short, so I didn't think much of it when she had to always 'run for court'..."

"I knew it-" I said. "I don't know how... but Caroline knew something about me... where I was... us... what we were doing. How could she have known? I mean, it makes no sense... but it does explain some of the emails I got from her..."

"How could she have known if anyone else didn't?"

"No one does know about Andi... the only two people who knew at the time were... well, an image consultant... and my AP editor... and then, later, you, I and so I never told anyone else the entire story... well, except for my dad... but that was only as of a couple of days ago." I said.

"It's a small world, Bones... maybe she found out from one of them?" Booth shrugged. He then paused and looked up at me as he said, "Wait... Max knows?"

I winced... I knew I was going to have to tell him about the conversation with my father... but I was hoping it could wait... just a few hours. We both were already so emotionally exhausted... drained from everything. However, since he had asked...

"Umm... yeah, kind of," I admitted.

"*What* does Max know?" Booth asked, concern evident in his voice.

I winced again as I said, "Well... pretty much... everything."

"Everything?" Booth asked incredulously. "Everything as in *everything*?"

"Yes..."

"The... Andi... the fights... the baby? Bones, does he know about the baby?"

"...yes..."

"Oh, fuck," Booth muttered. "I'm a dead man. He's... he's going to try to kill me, isn't he?" Pausing, he looked up and said, "Please tell me when you told him you weren't crying."

I couldn't help it as I flushed and looked away.

"Oh, fuck..." Booth muttered. "Yeah... not good, Bones. So not good."

"He... did... he did say that he 'most likely would not actually kill' the father of his grandchild," I said hesistantly.

At this Booth looked up and nodded at me. "Max Keenan found out that I knocked his little girl up and made her cry in the same conversation. I know Max, Bones... he is... he's going to try to kill me... or at least seriously maim me."

I reached out a tentative hand to reassure him as I said, "Yes, well forewarned is forearmed, right?"

"Any other confessions you want to toss out while we're here?" Booth said.

I bit my lip and shook my head and then narrowed my eyes. I couldn't help but frown as I said suddenly hit Booth lightly. "I can't believe you knew... and you made that whole speech when I was confessing to you! You knew, and you still made me feel guilty, you bastard," I said, more for dramatic affect then because I was truly hurt… okay, maybe I was just a little, but still.

Booth pointed at me and said, "Hey, I'm not the one with a homicidal father that's going to try to kill you now, am I? My confession is small bean compared to that..."

"Booth!"

"Hey... look... I didn't know for certain. I was just… suspicious… besides, Bones… logically, there was no reason for you to be in Afghanistan… as a reporter… with my unit… when you were supposed to be digging in the dirt in Makuku," Booth finally conceded.

"*Maluku*," I muttered. "It's *Maluku*," I said.

"Whatever," Booth said with a smirk.

I pointed at him and said, "You can be a real dick when you want to be."

He nodded with a smile. "Yup."

"So you had your suspicions?" I asked.

Suddenly serious, he nodded. "But… Andi- there was so much about her that wasn't Brennan… the hair, the eyes, the smell. The openness... how she would look at me... because... since we'd never been in bed together before... I didn't know how you'd look at me when we were intimate... so… it was like you said, I saw what I wanted to see. But… I just thought you should know that... just in case."

"Hmmph," I muttered, turning away from him.

"You can't be mad at me now," Booth said, edging closer to where I had scooted away from him during his confession. I was perched on the edge of the bed. "Come on, Bones, you can't," he chided.

"Says who?"

"Says me," Booth said, the grin evident in his voice. He leaned in, and gave my back a playful push with his shoulder. "Come on, now."

"No," I said with a bit of a pout in my voice.

"Come on… you know you want to…"

"No," I repeated… annoying myself, just a bit, because I was suddenly reminded of how Parker sounded when he was whining for something, and I didn't like it. Not one bit.

Booth leaned in again, and this time, instead of pushing my shoulders, his lips found and began to kiss a particularly delicate spot that I had heretofore, before Booth, had been unaware was one of my erogenous zones… oddly placed, albeit, right at the junction of my right humerus joined with my scapula at the glenohumeral joint. I leaned back against his lips, a small moan escaping involuntarily from my lips. "Not fair," I murmured, turning back and running my fingers through his hair. God... I loved doing that...

He pulled me closer to the center of the bed, the sheet dropping from where I had kept it clutched defensively against my body. His hands came around my waist and began to move up and down, doing wonderful things as he pulled me further back to the center of the bed... back to him. I moaned... his name, once, for purely experimental purposes. When I saw his eyes darken again at the calling of his name, I knew that I could probably get used to calling him Seeley... in bed... *only* in bed... if he looked at me like that when I did it. He smiled and brought his mouth back up to my ear.

"Want more?" he whispered.

I simply nodded, moaning again unintentionally as his tongue began to nibble on my earlobe. I could feel him grin at my response... and then... I can't remember much after that because the rational part of my brain had taken another coffee break. I wondered if that would be happening on a regular basis where Booth was concerned.

Lost in a wave of feeling and emotion, I finally let go... and so did he... and that was that.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>-TBC-<p> 


	24. Epi:No Unique Event

Often Quoted Quotes Quoted One More Time

By: Lesera128

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Obviously. Just playing in someone else's sandbox for a bit.

Summary: A series of linked but very AU glimpses of Booth and Brennan's relationship from perspectives inspired by famous BB quotes. Begins after Brennan has a 'hallucination' the night before she left for the Maluku Islands.

* * *

><p>Epilogue – "No Unique Event"<p>

* * *

><p><span>Quote<span>: "You will get a second chance. Because nothing in this universe happens just once, Angela. Nothing. Infinity goes in both directions. There's no unique event, no singular moment."

* * *

><p>-OPEN WORD DOCUMENT-<p>

Three and a half months later, I sat in a rocking chair by an open window in what would be the baby's nursery. It was early November, and the weather had started to turn brisk. A crisp breeze blew through the open window and was refreshing to me. It hadn't been all that long, but how I was craving to be outside. The final remnants of fall had chosen to make their appearance only after I could no longer venture outside. Of course... that was my luck. As it was, I knew if Booth saw me in the rocking chair, I would never hear the end of it. However, I enjoyed the rhythmic rocking as I stared off out the window and enjoyed what I could of the fall weather.

A little while later, I was still rocking and my hands were absentmindedly resting on my expanding stomach when I saw her leaning against the far wall.

"So… hallucination or dream this time?" she asked with a nod.

I arched an eyebrow at her and shrugged. "Not sure… the rhythmic rocking motion is enough to have lulled me into a doze, but, after the year I've had… I'm willing to take a few things on faith."

My mother laughed at this. "Faith? You don't believe in such irrational and unscientific things."

I laughed. "I didn't say I did... I'm just open to the possibility."

My mother chuckled at this with a mock frown of concern. "Oh, what's happened to my rational Temperance?"

I shrugged. "She fell in love and found out she's having a baby."

"Touché," my mother replied. Nodding at the wall, she said, "Purple?"

I shrugged again. "We're not finding out the sex of the baby, so it was either purple, green, or yellow… I liked this best. It seemed the most cheerful."

She laughed again. "You aren't very fair to Booth, you know."

"Why?" I said, narrowing my eyes a bit in suspicion. "He volunteered to paint while he made me promise to sit here and just watch. I didn't ask... he offered."

My mother waved it off. "No, not that."

"Then what?"

"You getting to know and him not finding out for certain until the baby's born... that's not really fair."

"Hey," I said. "I don't know anything for certain."

"And yet, after that last conversation with your father, there's a reason that Max started calling the baby Chrissy, isn't there…." she said.

"If anyone knows that my father does what he wants to do, it should be you, Mom," I countered.

"He never called me 'Chrissy', just so you know. 'Chris' on occasion… but…usually it was just Christine."

"He knew you hated nicknames," I finished.

She nodded.

"And I don't know for certain… I just have a feeling," I added with a frown.

"A feeling you haven't shared with Booth yet."

"He didn't ask, Dad did," I shrugged. She frowned at this, but remained quiet. At last, I looked up at her and nodded, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"When this whole thing started… the night before I was supposed to leave for Maluku..."

"Yes?"

"You only told me what happened up to Booth proposing to Hannah," I said softly.

"You knew he didn't marry her," she said evenly.

"But the last thing you told me was that he gave me an ultimatum," I said. Pausing for a moment… "All you said after that is that he and I would get to where we needed to be eventually."

"And you would have."

"But," I said. "I need to know…" I glanced down at my hands that still rested on my stomach. "Would I still have ended up with her? If I hadn't done anything... hadn't changed anything... would she still exist?"

My mother sighed, but then looked at me and asked, "Does it really matter to you?"

I nodded. "After what's happened in the past couple of weeks especially, yes."

At that, my mother frowned again. "That was a fairly stupid thing to do, you know, Temperance."

I sighed. "Please, Mom, I've already heard it from everyone… Booth… Dad… Jared... Rebecca... hell, even Parker read me the riot act."

"Well, it wasn't the smartest thing to be going to a neighborhood like Woodland in the middle of the night, by yourself, when it was raining and you happened to be just entering your third trimester... and you aren't even officially on duty at the lab since you're supposed to be teaching the exchange course in Chicago," my mother said.

"It is just a distance learning course, Mom... internet and all you know," I sighed. "It's not like I'm actually in Chicago teaching."

"Even still... it was a stupid thing to do, Temperance."

I shrugged, once again explaining what I had tried to explain to everyone else. "I didn't really have a choice... I had to go, Mom. That case… the doctor… Lauren Eames… I had to know…"

"Know what?"

"If… if she and I had lives that seemed to be as similar as they were," I said softly.

My mother shook her head. "Nope."

"Nope?" I responded. "How can you say that? We're both the best in our fields, hold advanced degrees, are dedicated to our work, had men who wanted to love us—"

"Stop," my mother said. "Stop right there."

"What?"

"That's where the crucial difference is, Temperance. Yes, you and that doctor both had similar lives… but yours stopped being similar to hers when you let the man who wanted to love you do so and you both chose to give up enough control to one another to actually *be* together," my mother said.

I sighed in frustration, "Even so… maybe you're right and my life isn't like Lauren Eames' right now… but it could be, again... sometime in the future… and, I'm terrified... of losing all that I have now... and what if I go back to who I was before that happened? I don't know how I would be able to deal with that..."

"You won't go back," my mother said simply. Pointing to my stomach, she said, "The type of changes you've made, baby girl... well, that one there won't let you revert back to type."

I bit my lip and nodded. "It was stupid… going to Woodland… if Booth hadn't followed me… I don't really want to think what might have happened to us."

Gesturing around the room, "This isn't so bad, you know... you get to rest, relax... have Booth as your personal slave. Why not enjoy while you have the opportunity?"

"Complete bed rest for the next twelve weeks isn't all it's cracked up to be, Mom," I grumbled.

Smiling, she countered, "20% placental abruption, Temperance."

"Because Booth tackled me to the ground!" I countered.

"Because you were in the middle of the street in a dangerous neighborhood in the middle of a rain storm about to be run over by a car," she reminded me… again.

I sighed. "Like I said, I know, Mom, it was stupid. And I am trying to make up for it by letting Booth be as overprotective and controlling of me as he has been since the hospital released me. That's not an easy thing to do... it only encourages his alpha-male tendencies... which are bad enough without any help from me."

"Even still... from what the doctors said, you really shouldn't be out of bed."

"The bed is ten feet that way," I gestured behind me. "I doubt very seriously that ten feet makes all the difference... especially when all I am doing is sitting here... just like I would be doing if I were moved ten feet in the direction of the bed."

"If Booth saw it, he wouldn't be pleased," my mother reminded me.

"I do a lot of things that don't please Booth," I said, matter-of-factly. "It helps keep him on his toes, anyway."

"The secret to a long lasting and happy relationship," my mother laughed.

I nodded. Then I stopped and looked up at her again and said, "So… are you going to answer my question?"

"About my baby girl's baby girl?"

I nodded.

"Yes," she said eventually. "You would have ended up with your own baby girl, one way or another, yes. A different route, different details, different cause of pain, a bit later in the timing of things... but, definitely, yes."

"Then why?" I asked. "Why change things?"

Looking at me, she shrugged. "I didn't make any changes, Temperance. You did. Remember… I'm just a hallucination, right?"

I narrowed my gaze and said, "Or a dream."

"Or a dream," she agreed. She pointed at my stomach again and said, "That one there would have gotten here eventually… the road just shifted a bit… that's all. The details… the reasons why… I can't really explain those, Temperance. All I can say is that things *do* happen for a reason… and that you always will end up going where you need to get to eventually."

"Do you like the idea of us naming her Christine?" I asked, abruptly changing the subject. "I'm not sure… I know a lot of people might think it's trite… but you are my mother, and I'd like for her name to have meaning… and Booth says it's logical and makes sense… but I still don't know…."

She smiled, nodded slightly, and then sighed. "Sure... but, do me a favor and chose a middle name for her that only has one syllable. It will drive Max nuts."

"Booth wants to name the baby Christine Joy if it's a girl."

"No surprise there," she said.

"No, no surprise there… and I still don't know… it's not like the name Joy has any significance for me… but, Booth is Booth. He and Dad had this talk not long after I was pregnant... I think he told him something about why you both named me 'Joy' originally... and neither one of them will tell me what it is... but Booth just won't let go of it."

I sighed, paused, and then looked up at her and nodded."You know… I never told him… never told anyone about these… visits we have."

She smiled at that and nodded at me again. "And there's no reason you have to either, baby girl." She paused, quirked her head at me and said, "Although, maybe one day you can tell your baby girl the story."

"I'm still going to get that MRI scheduled one of these days…" I murmured. "There's a part of me that has questioned the stability of my mind given the fact I'm not sure what you are..."

"So if you don't tell anyone... either Booth or your father... that doesn't make it real?"

"Something like that... I still have culpable deniability."

My mother laughed.

I nodded with a smile in return. Then, a loud screech of tires from the street below drew my attention to the window. I looked, out of instinct, in the direction of the loud noise. When I turned my gaze back to where my mother had been standing, she was gone.

I smiled sadly, began to rub my stomach as the baby started a particularly rigorous round of kicking and continued rocking, eventually dozing off for a while. The next thing I remembered were warm lips reaching the top of my forehead.

"You are supposed to be in *bed*," Booth murmured.

"Yeah," I said. "I keep getting told that."

He came around from where he had been kneeling down on the side of the rocking chair and gave me a real kiss. "How are things?"

I shrugged. "Same."

"No cramping?"

I shook my head. "Nope. A bit of kicking, that's all. She's restless today, I think,"

"You probably aren't helping things. Babies pick up on the mood of the mother, you know. She's probably just restless because you are," he said.

I shrugged. "Complete bed rest, twelve weeks, Booth. That equals a lot of restlessness in my book."

"Woodland, raining, 20% placental abruption, Bones," Booth said with a frown.

I sighed again. "I said I was sorry."

"I know, Bones," Booth said. He then nodded and said, "Let me carry you?"

I frowned. "But your back-"

"Is fine," Booth said. He then nodded again. Getting me to willing agree to be carried was something that particularly pleased Booth. He took it as the ultimate sign of resignation, submission, and femininity on my part. Reluctantly I nodded and said, "But only if I get to use you as a bolster in bed."

Booth frowned. "Hmmm... give me a minute then. Let me change."

He moved in the direction of our bedroom, loosening his tied as he moved. I couldn't help but smile as I called after him, "You don't have to change on my account, Booth... feel free to just get undressed."

His head then popped back into the nursery, and he was smiling that smile at me... *my* smile... the one I thought I had lost until the night I had kicked Hannah out of his apartment. He then said, "How can you possibly go from feeling restless to frisky in less than thirty seconds, Bones?"

I narrowed my eyes as I said, "It's not as big a jump as you might think since restlessness implies an excess of energy, Booth - and, as you well know, I have a *very* steep learning curve."

"Mmm hmmm," Booth said with a grin. He then disappeared back in the direction of our bedroom. A couple of minutes later, he came back in dressed in an old grey FBI tshirt and his boxers. He smiled, gestured down at himself and said, "Best I can do under the current circumstances, Bones."

I frowned. "Tease."

He grinned again, but said nothing. Coming forward, he extended his arms to gather me to him. With a small grunt, he opened his mouth to speak as he lifted me up.

I cut him off.

"In case you don't know this already, Booth, it's a really bad idea to crack weight jokes about the woman who is in her third trimester of carrying your child," I said a bit testily.

He shook his head with a small chuckle. As he carried me into our bedroom, he leaned in near my neck. I could feel the warm moisture of his breath near my ear as he said, "Bones, you know I think there's nothing more sexy than you... whether you're throwing me down on my own couch and trying to have your way with me... or glowering at me from a rocking chair when you're seven-months pregnant with my child. You're beautiful."

"Beautiful for a swollen and bloated helpless gestating invalid," I muttered. I was already so tired of being pregnant... I wanted my body back... I wanted the baby here... and I wanted to be able to do what I wanted to be able to do when I wanted to do it... particularly with Booth... but I couldn't... because of the baby. Who would have thought, in the end, it was the baby that would have taught me the ultimate lesson about the illusion of the reality of control?

Laying me gently down on the bed, Booth walked over and got in on the opposite side. He sat with his back against the headboard, and reached out for me. "Hey, gestating is an important job."

"I'm tired of being pregnant, Booth," I was whining, and I knew it. I was sounding like Parker again. In my normal frame of mind, I knew I would want to hit myself in annoyance, but I couldn't help it.

To his credit, Booth, as usual, was wonderful "Come here," he gestured again.

I continued pouting, but scooted towards him, sitting in-between his open legs as he pulled me back so that I could use him as a bolster. I leaned back and closed my eyes. This position, just sitting with him as he pulled the down comforter up around us given the coolness of the apartment, due to the windows I had opened, had become my favorite once I started to swell... his too, I think.

"You know, Bones... you're many things... but I would never call you helpless," he said.

"If this is just your way of margerining me up so you can turn on the TV to watch some game, the remote is about fourteen inches to your left, Booth."

"'Buttering', Bones... buttering up, not margerining," Booth laughed. I didn't say anything when I felt his arm snake over for the remote. He grabbed it, but to his credit, didn't flip on the TV yet.

"What's going through that brilliant mind of yours?" he asked after a moment, his chin coming to rest on my shoulder.

"I... I'm just thinking."

"Yeah, I know, I can hear the hamster running on it's wheel all the way over here, Bones."

"What hamster?"

Booth waved it off. "Is anything bothering you?"

And there is was... the man knew me so well. He's home fifteen minutes, I'm in his arms for five, and he already knows something is off with me.

I sighed. Deflecting would only buy me a little time. I decided it was best to just bypass that intermediary step and just say what was on my mind.

"Booth?"

"Yes, Bones."

"Do you remember the time I asked you the ten questions?"

Booth was silent for a moment. He eventually said, "Under the fig tree?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, I remember."

"I-I-I, find myself in need of having to ask some more questions in the hopes of obtaining an honest answer from you... but I don't really have ten whole questions to ask... just one."

He pulled me tighter to him and said, "Sure, Bones. You know you can always ask me anything you want."

"Do you think I'm going to be a bad mother... *am* I... a... a bad mother already?"

Whatever question Booth was expecting, it obviously wasn't the one I asked. I could tell by the way tension immediately flooded out of his tense form, and he began to breathe regularly in normal intervals. He immediately said, "Bones... why would you ever think you could ever be a bad mother?"

"Because-" I said... "Because... I... I could have lost her last week if you hadn't been there, Booth. If you hadn't followed me... hadn't followed me to Woodland instead of going for drinks with everyone at the Founding Fathers... I could have been hit by that car, and I could have lost our baby. What kind of good mother would take that risk with her child?"

"Bones..." Booth said. He hugged me even tighter and said. "She's fine... you're fine... the baby's fine. The doctor said that. You... you need to give her as much time as possible to let the lungs develop, but she wasn't hurt when I pushed you out of the way. The ultrasound showed that."

"I know, but if you hadn't been there-"

"But, I was."

"What... what kind of person am I to have taken that risk when I was seven-months pregnant... alone... at night... in the rain, Booth? It's not logical... I...I never should have gone. I made another mistake," I whispered.

"You haven't worked in the field in weeks, Bones... and, so I can see where you'd be off on this one... and it's understandable that you'd be drawn to the Eames case... she.. when you explained it to me the night in the hospital... I can see why you'd think you have a lot in common with her... the dolphin ring... her coloring... her life... but... I never should have brought those files home for you to look at..."

"I was bored," I defended myself. "And I asked you to bring them to me. Besides, it's not like I didn't have most of what you had brought home already from when Cam sent the digital x-rays of the bone scans. It... it's been a case that you guys haven't... wouldn't have been able to solve without me."

"But... you're still too close to it... Even now, Bones... it was a bad idea to involve you with it... if it bothers you this much... but... that's all it was. A case. You're not Lauren Eames. You don't have the same life. You will never have the same life as she had... or the one you had before," Booth said.

"I hope so," I admitted, feeling Booth get just a bit too close to something that was still raw... still... still too much for me to talk about yet... even to him. Trying to distract him, I laughed as I said, "You're right... I was bored... academic teaching is not all it's cracked up to be."

"Yeah, well... you did a pretty good job of convincing me anyway... but even still, you're not perfect, Bones. So you *are* going to make mistakes from time to time, Bones. It doesn't mean that you are going to be... aren't *already* a fabulous mother," Booth said reassuringly.

"But, if I keep making mistakes-"

"You're learning curve is still adjusting," Booth said. "Your first trimester was over before you even knew you were pregnant. You spent the second trimester without having any real time to get used to the reality of the idea that you are going to be our baby's mother. Between everything we spent time working out... three months went by fast, Bones. The past week has been the first real chance that you've had the opportunity to deal with the implicit ramifications of the fact that you're going to be bringing our child into the world. That's a lot to deal with... especially for a control freak like you."

"Isn't that a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, Booth?" I couldn't help but tease him.

He shrugged. "Yeah, but I've been through this once before. I'm not saying I'm not still grappling with the changes in our lives over the past few months... but once you get used to the idea of being someone's father the first time... it doesn't have quite the same overwhelming paradigm shift the second time as it did that first time."

"I... I find that I am having to spend a lot of time grappling with this, as you said," I told him. "And, when you're gone during the day, and I'm here by myself, I find it can get even more overwhelming."

"Well... you *do* think too much... always have."

"I know..."

Booth nodded. "And I have been thinking about that, too... and I still am gonna have to be careful in how much time I shift away from spending with Sully and Payton and the squint squad, would it help if I came home for lunch a couple of times a week? Break up some of the monotony and alone-time?"

I nodded. God... when did I become this trite? I love being alone. This pregnancy... what... what *has* it done to me?

...

Damn pregnancy hormones.

"Okay," Booth had already said in response to my nod. "Then I will."

I smiled a smile of thanks at him, but it didn't last long as I said, feeling sad again, "I miss my dad, Booth."

"Well, then why don't you call him? It's not like there are a plethora of people that know about the baby, Bones. I'm sure that Max would love being able to take advantage of spending time alone with you," Booth said.

"I'm still not certain if he thinks he can be around you without wanting to hurt you, Booth," I said.

"Then I guess you'll have to text me to let me know if the coast is clear before I get home."

"You're very good to me," I murmured into his shoulder.

"I... I didn't necessarily agree with hiding this from all our friends and co-workers, Bones... but... having both of us gone over the pros and cons of the situation... *together*... especially with Jacob Broadsky on the loose... until he's caught... I'm not going to lie and say I don't feel better with everyone being in the dark about our relationship and the baby... everyone thinks you're safe and sound and doing your own thing in Chicago... and until he's caught... that's one less thing he can use against me."

"It's still more lies," I murmured.

"Yeah," Booth said. "But, not to reiterate an often spoken phrase... I've always liked that what's between us has always stayed ours, Bones."

I shrugged. "Everyone will be pissed when they find out..."

Booth shrugged. "Everyone knows that you love to keep your secrets, Bones. I think they're sort of disappointed if you don't."

"All but from you," I said as I snuggled into him again.

"Smart idea," Booth said, as he leaned down to kiss me again. "Especially since you haven't been that smart lately, Bones. I mean... Woodland... middle of the night... placental abruption."

I swatted him. "I really wish people would stop bringing that up."

Although I knew he was initially teasing me, I felt his density shift. His hand reached around and he began to caress my expanding stomach. The baby, sensing a pleasing touch, and Booth liked to think, the proximity of her father, began to kick me a bit. He kissed me on the cheek, still rubbing my abdomen as he said, "I'm sorry. I can't help it. We were… we were just really lucky, Bones."

"I know," I breathed. "I know."

And, in more ways than he probably ever would realize, we really were.

-DELETE-

* * *

><p>~The End~<p>

A/N: And, so that's, as they say, that. I hope you enjoyed the story... or at least, I hope it provided a suitable distraction for you at various points. If you've read this entire story than you know I don't really do author's notes... but I did have a couple or four things I wanted to say here at the end.

First, I wrote the first draft of this entire story in a little over eight or nine consecutive days. So, I had a good idea of where the story was going well in advance, even as each kind reviewer shared their thoughts with me. There are one or two of you, however, who do deserve special thanks for your thoughtful suggestions (I worked them in where I could if they didn't directly conflict with where the plot was already headed) and constant reviews because I think they did help improve the quality story.

Second, to those who did review... you have no idea if you aren't writing a story how much the simple act of reviewing can mean to a writer. It lets us know we aren't just doing this for ourselves and people are out there reading because they're interested in the story. It made my day more than I can say when I posted a new chapter and then saw my faithful readers sharing their thoughts... it really did. So, again, thank you. Third, this story turned out much more like an alternative season 6 than I ever thought it would be when I started. Some of you caught, here and there, where I worked in bits of dialog from various episodes. Obviously, I did not write that stuff... nor, am I taking credit for it. Just FYI... It was quite amusing to me that the story's time frame, coincidentally, did end up sort of being parallel to season 6's... with a lot of similarities dropped in particularly on purpose towards the later chapters. What can I say... I love symmetry.

Last, in case anyone is wondering, a sort of sequel is already in progress... go check it out... it's listed under my author profile as the title "Twenty-one Weeks at Quantico." It takes place about a year after the events in this story (minus the epilogue... or a year from the point where they start their romantic relationship in July as marked by her tossing Hannah out)... and I am happy to report multiple chapters have already been posted. For those who haven't been reading that story, if you feel so inclined, I'd love to hear your thoughts. A lot of the issues raised towards the end of the story, particularly for Brennan in the epilogue, aren't going away. In case some are curious... I do plot my stories with deliberate action... I know it can be frustrating when something doesn't come up when people want it to... but hints are there, promise. I am a big fan of foreshadowing.

Also, in the not too distant future, I'll be posting a slight companion piece one-shot to this story called "Minute Musings Mused by Seeley J. Booth" to fill out Booth's point of view after the events in the final chapter of this story, but before the events in the epilogue, to appease the people who asked... who found out what and how did they react? I've always been more comfortable letting Brennan's voice dominate in the story, hence my preferred narration style. I personally think I'm on more shaky footing with Booth's character, so I am a little uncertain if it's worth sharing, but yeah... be on the look out for it.

Again, thanks to all... it's been a blast.~


End file.
